


The Apostate's Keeper

by Seabirdsong



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Blood Mage no Seisen | Dragon Age: Dawn of the Seeker, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Drama, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Magic, On the Run, Romance, Secrets, Smut, Somniari
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-03-25 13:38:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 109,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3812530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seabirdsong/pseuds/Seabirdsong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clairvoyant Mage Selise is assigned to watch over and assist Anders, the infamous fugitive apostate and former Grey Warden, after he is secretly conscripted into service for the Inquisition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Inquisitor Lavellan has been informed that there is a person of interest being transported to Skyhold at this very moment," began Leliana. "A person who would likely cause a bit of an uproar among our allies if his station here were to be revealed."

Selise looked curiously back and forth from Leliana to Grand Enchanter Fiona. The two women seemed uncharacteristically uneasy. A picture flashed behind her eyes of a figure in a black hooded cloak, walking hurriedly across the Skyhold courtyard in the golden hour before sunset. He would be arriving that very night.

"We have been consulting about whom to assign as a sort of… Keeper," she continued in her musical Orlesian accent, "and we have settled upon you. You have served well over the years as one of my little birds, and the Grand Enchanter has been very impressed with your special gifts."

"Clairvoyance is not a trait that is common among even the most powerful mages," added Fiona. "Leliana and I agree that it, along with your Entropy specialization, could be useful in helping this man go undetected for as long as possible here. You will be tasked with assisting him any time he must leave his chambers so that you can help him elude notice. If there is any chance that he might be recognized, you have the freedom to intervene using non-lethal methods. We are hoping that your gift of sight can help him avoid any trouble, but your demonstrated ability with the Sleep and Misdirection spells should be invaluable in any… unexpected situations."

"I know it sounds like we aren't giving you a choice, but you are free to decline this assignment, if you have any reservations," added Leliana.

"Before I accept, may I ask who this man is?" asked Selise. Having spent the past two months at Skyhold without feeling any real agency or purpose, she was already sure she was going to accept the assignment, even if only to have a reason to fill her days again. But with all the secrecy around their meeting, she found herself moving beyond merely wanting to escape her pervading ennui, to feeling positively intrigued.

"You have heard of the apostate named Anders?" asked Leliana.

Selise involuntarily took in a sharp breath. Of course she'd heard of Anders. Every mage in Thedas had heard of Anders.

"Inquisitor Lavellan has decided that due to the controversy that continues to be associated with him, she will fore go the customary public judgment, and instead quietly conscript him into service for the Inquisition. He is one of the few people who have had dealings with Corypheus before the breach, and with his…. connection to the spirit world, he may be able to offer unparalleled insight that could be very important to our mission."

"However, reports indicate that Corypheus did exert a very strong effect on Anders' mind, so he will be kept far from any combat or situation which might put him within proximity to Corypheus himself. Which means that you too would sit out of any fighting."

Selise nodded. "And what about the spirit that possesses him? Justice?"

Fiona and Leliana looked at each other.

"If Justice presents as a threat to anyone within Skyhold at any point, he must be neutralized. By whatever means necessary," answered Leliana. "We are hopeful that your gifts can prevent that from becoming necessary. It was one of the main reasons we chose you."

"I accept," Selise said simply.

"I knew we could count on you," said Fiona with a pleased smile.

"You'll need to pack your things. You'll be taking the quarters that adjoin his," stated Leliana.

Selise nodded and stood.

"Obviously if any important or useful information comes to light at any point, we expect you to report it immediately," said Fiona.

"Understood Grand Enchanter."

Fiona led her down the stone stairs and through the lower floor of Skyhold.

"Few come down here, and those who do most likely will not venture beyond the front storage rooms. However there is a small kitchen down here, and we have had a washroom and a library installed.

"He will be staying indefinitely?" Selise asked.

"For a few months at least. It will be up to the Inquisitor to change his assignment beyond that. She most likely will want to meet with you at some point, and you will be reporting to myself and Leliana on a weekly basis."

Selise nodded.

"We do expect all your reports to remain unbiased, Selise. I know that goes without saying, but do try not to succumb to temptation or impropriety. This is an important post, and none of us can afford mistakes."

"Of course Grand Enchanter," answered Selise.

"I know I have no reason to doubt you dear girl, but that had to be said nonetheless. Now, there is Anders' quarters," she said gesturing to a door off to the right. "And here is yours," She opened a door immediately beside his to the left. It led to a spacious stone room with a small fireplace in the shared wall.

"A bit nicer than the one you had in the mage's tower, isn't it? Wait until you see the library. It is small, but full of many rare volumes." Fiona informed her with a pleased smile.

"So, settle in. Anders should be arriving in an hour or so."

"No, they won't be here until later. Just before sunset." Selise told her.

"Oh," she answered. Fiona was used to Selise by now and barely blinked an eye. "Well, more time for you to get comfortable then."

Selise closed the door behind Fiona and turned back to appraise her new quarters more closely. The room's two windows were carved out of Skyhold's outermost wall and they looked straight down into the glacial valleys of the Frostbacks. She shivered with the realization that this thin piling of stone and glass was all that stood between her and an unfathomably long drop onto hard ice. The room was well appointed with a much larger bed than the small cot she had back in Skyhold's mage tower, as well as a table and two chairs, and scattering of lanterns.

She put her small pile of clothing away and settled her books onto the one bookshelf that stood in the corner of the room. When the mages were recruited into Inquisition service, they were only given a couple hour's notice to gather their things, and so Selise had only brought along a small bag of belongings. But the truth was, she was grateful to rid herself of any remaining ties to her former life.

She wondered if Fiona and Leliana would still have chosen her for the position if they'd known that four years earlier, after Anders blew up the Chantry, she found herself slightly infatuated with the now legendary mage. The secret about how her father and brother had come to die in the inferno of her childhood home remained unknown to all, and even from across the Waking sea, she felt a kinship with the man who took matters into his own hands in so similar a manner as she had. She was only saving herself from the men who would try to kill her, while he was trying to force change for all mages everywhere. It wasn't exactly the same, but something about his story had affected her profoundly.

She had only seen his likeness in paintings, and read and reread the numerous books published about the Kirkwall rebellion, including the resulting fight between knight Commander Meredith and Enchanter Orsino. She had only been twenty years old then, but she wished she'd had the luck to be born in Kirkwall so she could fight at their side. A foolish wish according to the rest of the Circle. Varric Tethras, the author of the definitive account of the events at Kirkwall was there at Skyhold, but she had never spoken to him. She would be just another fan among thousands as far as he was concerned, and she had no interest in pressing upon him her unsolicited admiration. But she watched him in awe, knowing that he was there, that he knew the Champion, Anders and all the others. They were her heroes, as much as she might have had any. Cullen too, had served under Knight Commander Meredith but eventually fought against her. When she learned about the people she would living amongst at Skyhold, she realized with excitement that she was joining something very important. Even if there had been no breach, these people were out to change the world. If she couldn't have been in Kirkwall, she was glad to be here, even as only a tiny cog in a giant wheel.

The year after the Chantry blew up was when she had been enlisted by the Nightingale, to serve as a pair of eyes and hands in one of the most volatile parts of Ferelden. Selise's clairvoyance had won her a renown of her own among the Lake Calenhad Circle, and even though she wasn't proficient with Destructive magic in general, she had found a number of creative uses for her peculiarly strong talent in Entropy.

She felt the flutter of nerves at Anders' impending arrival, but also a little bit of dread. He would probably assume that she was a another silly girl with a couple weird talents, even though she was now 24 and had years of working outside the Circle under her belt. She wasn't a girl at all, really. Or even a woman, or at least she didn't feel like one. She was a weapon. A hunter, a killer and a diviner of secrets. She expected nothing more than to perform her duties for him with the same ruthless efficiency that she had come to be known for while working for the Nightingale.

He had to be in his thirties by now. She told herself that everything she had probably heard about him was wrong, and she was going to put it all out of her mind. She would come to know the man who was there before her, not the character in the books that she had revered.

She stepped in front of the mirror that hung by itself on a stone wall.

Her black hair was swept back into a messy ponytail, and her pale skin and light gray eyes remained clear. She wasn't sure why they bothered giving her a mirror, as she had no time or interest in prettying herself up or trying to embellish her plain features for the sake of attractiveness. But there it was. And there she was. She shrugged, and picked up her book, and left the room.

Their rooms were at the end of a long narrow hallway at the furthest reaches of the lower floor, and after she stepped out of her door, she followed that hall past Anders' door and around one corner and then another, before finally she reached the two rooms set up as a kitchen and washroom. But the library was on the other side of entire floor, located just next to the door that led to the stairs up to the Great Hall. If they were to run into people anywhere down here, it would be the library, especially once it was discovered by her fellow mages, and word spread about the rare books there. The library was a single small room that was crossed quickly in less than ten steps. But the shelves ran high up, all the way to the ceiling, and were filled with ancient tomes with titles completely unfamiliar to her. She looked forward to spending a fair bit of time there.

She grabbed the book she was currently halfway through, and made her way up to the courtyard of Skyhold, squinting against the bright sun as she crossed the grass to sit under her favorite tree. It was the vantage point from which her vision of Anders' entrance came. She would be sitting right there when he finally crossed the threshold into her life.

Before she opened her book she felt the presence of the spirit from the tavern.

"He comes, a face from your future and past, but not yet your present. She waits but doesn't, the pictures telling her when."

"Hello Cole," she said.

"Closer and closer, heavy with old pain, split in half and aching. His purpose is new but the same, and he may not find safety here. You will help him?"

"I will complete my duties," she answered. "He will be safe, if I have anything to say about it."

"You will help him," he said again, this time a statement and not a question. Without seeing him sit, he suddenly appeared in the grass beside her. He'd been drawn to her since the day she walked into Skyhold, undoubtedly attracted by her gift of sight, and Selise found herself enjoying his company most of the time. Sometimes for all he could see, he couldn't quite tell when she wanted to be alone.

"A keeper like a mother, hiding a child in her apron."

Selise snorted gently. Not quite a mother, she thought.

"I don't wear aprons," she informed him.

"It is nice having another here who can see without looking."

"You have said that before," she said.

"And. It is."

"Cole, what do you think of the bald elf mage?" she asked him.

"Solas has a wall in his mind. But sometimes a window opens."

"He looks at me funny sometimes."

"A look that makes him laugh?" he asked.

"No, not that kind of funny. Like he knows… something. But I can't seem to glean anything from him."

"The bald mage is full of knowing. Knowing is not always funny."

"But he is not also a seer? Like us?"

"Not a seer, but he does see."

"Hm," she said and opened her book.

The golden hour fell, and she put her book down to watch the gate to Skyhold open. A minute passed. Two minutes. Then the gate creaked and lifted slowly, and several of the Commander's soldiers streamed in, removing their helmets and breathing the relieved sighs of homecoming. And then he was there, black cloak flowing, hood hiding his face. There were soldiers at his sides and his rear, guiding him up the path, and no one else in the courtyard looked up to see him.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The trip to Skyhold was grueling, and Anders didn't remember ever being as cold in his life as during those days traversing through the snowy peaks of the Frostbacks. But when Skyhold finally came into view, it almost took his breath away. It really was a stone fortress perched right at the edge of the sky, and it seemed utterly untouchable. As they crossed the long bridge to the gate he felt the ancient magic that resonated up through the stones, providing its walls and inhabitants with an extra layer of protection. As impressive as the approach was, when the gate opened to reveal green grass and flowering trees he found himself breathless yet again, and was almost sad that he would be leaving it so soon. Once he found what he was looking for within these walls, he would have to make yet another fly-by-night escape, and make his own way back to Denerim. If only he had the time to relax here for a while first, he thought wistfully. Maybe the prize he sought wouldn't be so easy to find, and he would be forced to wait. Forced to take some time. That might not be so bad, he thought, but he had already been waiting for too many years. And now that he was hearing the quiet song of the Calling, he knew his time truly was limited.

He glanced quickly around the courtyard, wanting to stop to take in the people and market tables that were nestled among the grass, but the soldiers at his side and rear kept their pace, not allowing him to slow. There were tents and wooden structures positioned throughout the expansive grounds, and somehow even surrounded by immeasurable fathoms of rocks and ice, the trees were alive with the song of birds. The few people he saw did not look up at the procession of soldiers; it was probably a sight that occurred with boring regularity, but there was one pair of eyes watching him closely, knowingly. A dark haired girl sitting before a closed book in the shade of a tree, with eyes so light and intense he felt a small jolt of a curious reaction somewhere deep inside. Maybe it was her wild nest of dark hair which for a brief moment, reminded him vaguely of the woman he had loved for a short time, years ago.

He ascended the stairs and entered the Great Hall, which was warmed by the burning fires placed at even intervals along the pathway. He cast his eyes about, looking for the eye in front of the chantry star symbol that would identify the Seeker, but instead he saw a small bald elf watching him closely with an unreadable expression, and heard the low raspy voice that made him smile despite himself. The rumors were true, Varric was here. Before he could lay his eyes upon his old friend, he was turned into a doorway that led to a long crumbling corridor. A solider knocked on the massive wooden doors that towered over his head, and it creaked open, held in place by a petite girl with short red hair.

"I remember you," he said softly.

He was brought forward to a large table surrounded by four other people, including the Seeker.

"Knight Commander Cullen," he said with a nod. Cullen looked bulkier, but also… looser somehow than the Templar that had been stationed in the Gallows in Kirkwall for all those years.

"It's just Commander now," Cullen said gruffly, and he shifted impatiently on his feet, his brows drawn. He seemed decidedly unhappy. Of course he would be, Anders figured, he was faced with the man who blew up his Chantry.

The Seeker was an attractive woman, if a bit severe in demeanor. Her armor was heavily dented and battle worn, but she greeted him pleasantly enough, introducing herself as Cassandra. Her handshake was as firm as any man's, but her skin was softer. First order of business would be to find out everything possible about her, particularly where within this fortress she might elect to store her valuable items.

"Anders, this is Inquisitor Lavellan," Leliana said as a slender elf with short, platinum blond hair approached and held out her hand to greet him. Her hand glowed green and Anders felt the energy radiating off the marking. It seemed to be a vortex of some kind, and was connected to the Fade. The closer she got, the more the Veil felt as inconstant and changeable as a thin slip of water.

Somewhere deep down, Justice stirred.

"Forgive me Inquisitor, but I don't think I should touch that… mark on your hand," he said as he felt the anxiety rising in his chest. This would be the worst possible time for Justice to emerge.

"Oh. Of course. It's fine," she said and lowered her hand.

"Anyway, I am Ellana, welcome to Skyhold and the Inquisition. As you know we have chosen to skip the whole public judgmenty bit in order to prevent riots within a few of our allied states, but this is not a vacation for you. You are here to serve the Inquisition, with your knowledge of Corypheus and whatever else we may ask, until we.. until  _I_  have decided that you have made sufficient reparations," she stated, looking hard at him with piercing green eyes. "You have been assigned a Keeper, to help you remain undetected here at Skyhold, as well as to report on your activities. I have yet to meet this girl myself, but I am told she comes with an unusually helpful skill set for your particular situation. Grand Enchanter Fiona will be bringing her in any moment now and to explain how this is going to work. If you cause us any problems Anders, I am told this girl should be able to subdue you."

"This girl is a Templar?" he asked. He expected to be under guard, but to simply be followed around by a girl? He was almost insulted.

"She is a fellow mage in fact. But if you would prefer to be assigned a Templar, that could be arranged," the Inquisitor responded.

"Nope. No thank you," he said, biting his tongue.

The large door creaked open again, and two small women with black hair approached. One he recognized as Grand Enchanter Fiona, and the other… was the girl from the courtyard. She carried herself easily, with a smooth confidence that was not ostentatious. Her pale skin was the color of alabaster, and she had disobedient black hair that was threatening to break free of its binding. When the girl's strange light grey eyes met his, he felt that little jolt in his gut again. She did have some similarities to Hawke, he noticed, but there was something very different about her too. She was slightly taller, he noticed. Her nose was longer and more elegant, eyebrows thicker and more angled. And he didn't know if he'd ever before seen eyes such a light shade of grey that they were practically silver.

He held a hand out to her in greeting, "Hello, I am told we will be spending a bit of time together."

She took his hand and gave a little squeeze.

"Selise. Pleased to meet you," she said simply.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Back in her quarters, Selise stared out the window into the blue expanse of sky. Anders looked very much like she had always imagined him: an average sized man with deeply set, reddish brown eyes, a long slender nose and a stubbled chin and jaw. His hair was longer than it was in all the book illustrations, and worn loose, not back in that little pony tail. The ends had been bleached blond by probably the same sun that had given his skin its golden tan. If Selise was the type of girl who noticed when a man was attractive, she would have thought so about Anders.

But she wasn't, she reminded herself. Men were simply a distraction.

It was hard to reconcile the polite, low profile man with the stories about Kirkwall, but she could feel a deep well of disturbance in him. Some of that might have been Justice, some perhaps the inevitable damage done by a hard life fighting and running. She felt a quiet sympathy for him, but reminded herself sternly that regardless of her own personal opinions, she was expected to act without any trace of bias.

A vision flooded her mind. He was about to come retrieve her for a quick tour of Skyhold. But it wasn't a good time for that. It was just after dinner time, and the Hall and courtyard would still be full of people. She left the window and opened the door in time to see him standing on the other side, hand raised in an unexecuted knock.

"Night time would be better," she told him.

"Oh… uh, well you don't waste any time do you?" he said, his cheeks growing pink.

"For a tour of Skyhold. There might be a few places I can take you, but the Hall is busy right now. It would be best to wait until the sun is down for the full tour."

"Right. Yes, there it is. That's what they were talking about, right?" he said, "I have never met a clairvoyant before," he gave her a sheepish smile.

"Is it always going to be like this? Do I even need to bother speaking?"

"It is not always like this. It just happened to be this time," she said.

"Fascinating. Well, uh, okay then. We wait until night. Only a few more hours for that, right?" he stammered, and then cleared his throat. "Sooooo would you like to join me for a cup of tea then?"

Selise thought a moment and then nodded, and stepped quietly out the door.

He led her to his quarters and since his back was turned to her she took the opportunity to inspect him closely. He had removed the hooded cloak and now wore a simple black robe with brown cotton breeches and leather boots. His wavy hair hung down to just below his shoulders and he had a thick, shiny scar stretching around the base of the left side of his neck. Whatever had caused that would have been a killing blow, but had clearly been healed very quickly with magic.

His quarters were just as sparsely appointed as her own, and he gestured to one of the chairs at the small table in the corner of the room. She couldn't help but notice that he kept flashing quick, cautious looks at her, and she got the impression that if she wasn't looking back, he would have been studying her closely as well. Of course he would be curious about her. People always were once they learned about her gifts.

He hung a kettle over the glowing coals in his fireplace and opened a small cupboard to find two mugs.

"So they say you are also gifted in Entropy," he began. "I am a healer you know. That means we are opposites. Or some might even say complements."

"Oh?" Selise asked. She was trying not to stare at him, but she kept finding her eyes back on his face. The drawings she had seen had not done him justice. She forced her eyes down to her hands and made them stay there.

"Yes, Creation spells give and enhance life. Entropy drains it. I suppose it's fitting that they would assign an Entropic to me," he mused. "We are black and white, you and I. Light and dark. I am the light of course," he laughed. "Though many would argue otherwise. You would be the dark. It's a little ironic, isn't it?"

Selise cocked her head and considered this.

"Have you drained many lives Selise? Are you a killer?" he asked casually.

"I have killed far fewer than you have, even accounting for those you've saved," she answered.

"You can't know that. I'll have you know that I have saved a great deal of people. It's what I do," he informed her matter of factly.

"But let's not get this off on the wrong foot," he flashed her a wry smile.

"So anyway, how do you feel about this? Your assignment?" he asked, turning to retrieve the kettle and steep some leaves.

"I don't need to feel anything about it. I am just doing my duty," she answered.

"Oh come on. You don't really believe that, do you? Clearly you know about the things I have done. That rarely inspires apathy, especially among my fellow mages."

"Yes, obviously I do know about the things you've done."

"And?"

"And?" she asked.

He sighed, and sat down to slide a mug across the table.

"Thank you," she said.

"Is it because you see things about people that you don't want to? Is that why you've got this gruff thing going on? Is this just some sort of protective shell? Or is this the entropic darkness tainting your soul?" he joked.

Selise took a sip and finally met his gaze again. He had one eyebrow slightly raised, and was searching deep into her eyes. She fought back a small smile from her own lips.

"Well don't worry. I'll crack that shell eventually," he smiled and took a sip of his own tea.

"Do you not feel guilt for what you did?" she asked, instantly squelching the lighthearted mood. She was suddenly struck with a sharp ache in her chest that sucked out her breath. These must have been Anders' emotions, as they were not her own, she realized.

"Of course I do," he said, his smile fading, "If I believed there was any other way to affect real change, I would have taken it. But there was no peaceful option left. Something had to happen. I don't expect people to understand that. But I do regret the unnecessary loss of life."

Selise nodded, and she swallowed heavily as she tried to push his emotions out of her, erecting a spiritual barrier to close her off to receiving too much from him. It wasn't often that she took on someone else's feelings, and it rarely hit her so quickly or strongly. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly "I actually understand," She tried to shake out the image in her mind of her home engulfed in flames.

"Do you?" he asked, staring down into his mug.

"I do understand the need to take some matters into your own hands. And in your case it made you a bit of a pariah," she said.

Anders snorted, "that's an understatement. Well, good, I guess. At least that's something. Certainly better than the extremes of hatred or emulation that I usually seem to encounter."

He looked up into her face again, and the intense scrutiny of his eyes made her itch to look away. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so nervous in someone's company. But this was  _Anders_. She shouldn't have expected to remain completely unaffected.

"I have never seen eyes that shade of grey before," he said eventually.

"They were my mothers," she said. "I mean, you know, I got them from her."

"Did you get the gift of sight from her too?" he asked.

Selise nodded.

"Is it difficult? Do you have any control over the things you see?"

She shook her head. "I have no control. It can be difficult, but I don't know any other way of living."

"Right," he whispered, "I suppose you wouldn't."

"So can you tell what people are thinking? What they…. Intend to do?" he asked, his eyes turning wary.

"I see events that are already in motion. Not ideas or plans. Those are always too changeable, until they become action."

He nodded, "that makes sense."

But he had plans, she realized. She couldn't tell what they were, but he had them.

"You have an agenda here don't you?" she asked. "I find it hard to believe the notoriously slippery apostate of all the tales was just genuinely caught off guard. You allowed your capture this time."

Anders laughed softly, "Oh dear. You are not going to make this easy for me, are you?"

"Make  _what_  easy?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I guess you'll just have to wait until my plans become action, won't you? And then you can see for yourself."

"You're awfully bold to assume I will keep quiet. Especially so soon after we have first met."

"Am I? Ah well. I can assure you I do not plan to hurt anyone. Quite the opposite actually. And I will assist the Inquisition to the best of my ability," he took another sip of his tea.

"Besides, I want to be friends. I assume you will report on all my activities, so I will just have to do my best to convince you of my very real desire for atonement, won't I?"

Selise sat back in her chair and looked at him openly. In a roundabout way, he was calling her bluff.

"Did they really think it was a good idea to assign someone so pretty to me?" he asked then. "And putting our quarters so close together? It's like they're daring us to fall in love."

Selise couldn't help but let out a small laugh at that.

"Oh, she finally smiles!" he said.

"They trusted me with this because they know me," she said.

"But clearly they don't know  _me_. I can be very charming."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders' backstory in this chapter comes from my other fic, Hurt Me.

“Well, it’s dark.” Anders announced nervously as he returned to the library from his quarters. Selise was nestled into an armchair, her knees a pulled up into her chest and her feet bare. She looked so comfortable there that Anders felt bad for disturbing her. She kept reading for a second, presumably until her sentence was finished, and then looked up to nod and close her book.

“I guess I should probably get used to going out at night, right? Then again I’m surprised they’re giving me as much as freedom as they are. Not that I wouldn’t be sneaking out anyway,” he continued. Selise came to stand in front of him, waiting for him to let her through the door of the library. “But the Inquisitor is coming down for a meeting in the morning, or so they said. So I guess I should be well rested for that, which means an early-ish night tonight.” he paused, “Er, sorry, am I talking too much?”

“Maybe a little,” she said.”But I don’t mind.” She looked at him placidly, not seeming particularly annoyed but Anders didn’t want to tire her out already on their first day together. He was feeling so energized in this place, with its strange magical aura and the promise of finally fulfilling a search that he had begun with Marian Hawke so many years ago. And he was also looking forward to spending more time with this strange and intriguing girl.

“Sorry, I admit I’m a little anxious to see more of this place. Can you feel the magic here? Inside the walls, the stones, the very foundation... It’s extraordinary,” he sighed excitedly as he ran a hand along the bumpy stones of the wall, “Anyway, you’ll probably want to run ahead and scope things out first, yes?”

“Yep,” she nodded.

“Well then, lead the way lady Selise,” Anders said as he swept his arm dramatically toward the stairwell. He felt a little silly, wondering if he shouldn’t try to dampen down his giddiness a bit. But it was a feeling he hadn’t known for a very long time, one that he hadn’t thought he was allowed to feel anymore, but here it was making him lightheaded and full of energy. It felt good.

She stepped around him and disappeared silently up the steps without bothering to put her shoes on first. Anders stood in the middle of the empty main room and just looked around in her absence. There was little in the way of furnishings in the room, only a table or two with some burning lanterns that Selise had lit, and a couple locked doors along the wall. Skyhold probably already had plenty of space for everything anyone above needed, but this still seemed like a waste of a perfectly good room. But he should probably be glad it was not being used, he thought, since as long as it was empty he would have free run of it.

Several seconds later she peeked her head back out of the stairwell and motioned for him to follow, but instead of taking him into the Great Hall, she opened the door opposite the Hall and led him out into the gardens. The full moon overhead was illuminating the space with a soft silver light, and a small group of fireflies hovered just over the cluster of Embrium, lending the gardens an ethereal, sparkling glow.

“Wow, this is beautiful,” Anders whispered as he moved over the small stone path into the garden’s center, and looked up into the open sky.

“Do you think I might be able to have my own little plot somewhere in here to grow some herbs? “ he asked.

“I can arrange that,” she said. Anders made his way through the varieties of plants, stopping to pick a leaf here and there and hold it to his nose, inhaling the sharp medicinal scents. They already had all the common plants of Thedas, but also some of the harder to find ones such as Crystal Grace, Felandaris and Royal Elfroot. He was impressed overall with the garden’s bounty and it was enough to heighten his already reverential opinion of the fortress. He was sure they already had an alchemist somewhere on the grounds, but if they found themselves in need of more potions he was sure he could do a lot with what they had available.

“You really don’t mind going barefoot?” he asked her as she stood silently in the grass, gazing up into the stars. “What, do you have elfblood in you or something?”

She shook her head and said, “I don’t mind out here. The grass always feels cool, no matter how warm the air gets.”

The moonlight was making her black hair look almost blue, and the wild tendrils snaked away from her face in silky waves. He wanted to reach out and smooth them down, but then he realized he actually liked they way they seemed to have a mind of their own. And she certainly didn’t seem to notice, or care. They were only, what, eight hours into their acquaintanceship, he realized, and he was already feeling a tenderness for this girl. When glimpsed from the corner of his eye she continued to stun him by invoking the visage of Hawke, but then when he looked straight at her, she was a creature all her own. She seemed so completely unaware of herself, and though it was well hidden, he could feel a deep vein of damage lurking below her serene surface. He pressed his hands back down into his pockets and wrenched his eyes away.

He noticed a drooping stalk of Vandal Aria, and he went to it, lightly fingering the rubbery leaves and flaccid trunk, transferring a bit of energy into it until it picked back up and stood strong. Vandal Aria was a desert plant, and it appeared to have received entirely too much water. As well stocked as the garden was, some of the organization was a bit off. A desert plant should not have been placed right next to the Spindleweed, which needed an almost constant influx of moisture. Maybe he could have a project here, he thought. Even if one only completed by the shine of moonlight. Through the garden he could ensure he made some mark on Skyhold before he left, one that would continue to grow and help people well after he was long gone.

“Do people live in these rooms?” he asked gesturing to the doors that were spaced along the wall.

“That one holds a shrine for Andraste,” she said, pointing to a door, “One of these others is storage. And then there are spare bedrooms not currently in use,” she told him. As he was watching her, her eyes went distant for a moment, staring into a scene that only she saw. And then she retreated back toward a covered corner of the garden, silently entreating him to follow. He obeyed and as they sank back into the darkness, he heard a door creak open. Two bodies walked out into the garden, a couple holding hands and come to enjoy the gardens under the moonlight. He heard a female voice gasp at the fireflies that hovered on the far side of the courtyard. The second the couple’s backs were completely turned Selise grabbed the sleeve of his robe and pulled him quietly over to a set of stairs carved into the stone wall. They climbed quickly, but she stopped right before they emerged onto the upper pathway, pulling him down to join her in a crouch. Anders couldn’t help but notice how close they were, just inches away from touching. He became acutely aware of the warmth radiating off her, of her clean scent and the glow of her porcelain skin in the moonlight. It had been a very long time since he’d been with anyone, he realized. Maybe that is what accounted for his brisk awareness of her. The years on the run had been excruciatingly lonely, with the last one being the emptiest of them all.

She seemed barely to notice their proximity and stayed completely still and focused, inhabiting the night like some nocturnal animal, brows slightly drawn as she watched the pictures in her mind.

Footsteps approached and just as they turned to come down the stairs on top of them, she stood abruptly and pushed a small wave of energy toward the body. It was just a soldier doing his rounds, but as soon as the energy wave hit him, he paused and looked around confusedly like he no longer knew why he was there. Selise’s hand was back on Ander’s sleeve again, pulling him over the last few steps and past the disoriented soldier, to silently make their way down the battlement path. Anders looked back to see the man slowly descending the stairs without looking back.

“Well that’s useful,” he whispered.

Anders realized at the same moment that she did that her hand was still clutching his sleeve even though they were well past the danger of discovery, and she let him go quickly, dropping her eyes to the ground.

After winding around a couple turns, she slowed to a stop, and finally leaned back on the battlement wall to rest.

“You should have a good view of most of Skyhold up here,” she said, “if you want to look around.”

He left her behind him as he walked up and down the pathway, peeking over the stone ledges to look down into the different sections of the green courtyard. It was fortunate that the moon was putting out so much light, as otherwise he might not have been able to see anything at all within the towering stone walls. He made his way back to her and looked over the rail she was still resting upon, seeing behind them a wooden building that was lit up brightly, and echoing within were the sounds of intoxicated laughter and the high trilling tones of a bard singing.

“Ah, a tavern. I miss the days when I could actually relax in public with my friends and a flagon of ale,” he said softly. Play a game or two of Wicked Grace, flirt shamelessly with Marian until Fenris threatened to punch me in the face, get groped by Isabela… Those were good times,” he said wistfully.”If I had realized that would never be possible for me again I would have done it more often.”

It had been four years, but he still missed them every single day. One thing he did not miss was watching Hawke and Fenris together, laughing, touching and looking at each other the way they did. But despite the pain of seeing the women he loved with another, those evenings were always fun, always crackling with possibilities. The familiar ache fired up in his stomach at the mental picture, at the visions of the people he had lost, of the love that had chosen another man. He was pulled out of his thoughts for a moment when Selise seemed to double over slightly, but the ache in his stomach intensified and remained. He looked at her curiously, but she shook off whatever it was and stood back up to meet his eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asked her, and she nodded, taking a deep breath.

“You are a woman of few words, aren’t you?” he commented.

“What should I be saying?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Nothing I guess,” he sighed.

“Hm. Well, are…are you alright?” she asked him in return.

“For now,” he answered. “Would you… do you think you might go grab us some ale?” he asked.

She looked at him in surprise. They were right near the stairwell that led down next to the tavern. It wouldn’t be a long walk for her.

“I probably shouldn’t leave you here alone,” she said.

“I won’t go anywhere, I promise. Trust me, I don’t want to be found out by anyone here either. That’s just trouble I don’t have the energy to deal with anymore. Besides, running away would mean no ale,” he said.

She looked at him cautiously for a moment, gaging the sincerity of his words with her silvery grey eyes. She seemed to be satisfied with what she saw there.

He had gone from the heights of giddiness to feeling himself on the verge of being swallowed up by the sadness washing over him at the emergence of so many memories. This was often the way of it. He had a permanent river of pain and regret running just underneath everything else he felt and thought. He could block it out most of the time, ignoring the way he had completely destroyed his ability to have anything approaching a normal life. The way he had hurt his friends, and sent so many innocent souls to be with the Maker before their time. But the pain would always come back. He would be fine for hours, days even, and then it would rear up in a rogue wave and knock him over, dragging him completely underwater without a moment’s warning to take a breath first.

“Okay,” she agreed, “If you run, I’ll know anyway. And I’ll bet I can run faster than you can.”

“Perhaps. But I’m not barefoot,” he told her, managing a sad little smile.

He watched her disappear down the staircase, and then sat down on the stone pathway and looked up into the stars. Because of the moon, only the brightest ones were visible, but they were still spectacular. He took a deep breath and sank into himself, feeling himself get smaller as he crumpled inward toward the aching of old wounds. It had been a long time since he’d thought so much of Hawke. And it was the girl’s fault, with her black hair and her light eyes. He and Hawke had only a few short nights together, and for those precious hours he had felt a love and passion that were unequaled in any other time in his life. But any chance he’d had at being with her was shattered when Vengeance crushed the life out of her in a cave outside of Hercinia. How Anders had found the strength to restore her was still a complete mystery to him. But she was alive, even at that very moment. And from all accounts, very happy living with Fenris somewhere in Ferelden. He was glad for her, knowing that his actions upon the Chantry would have probably destroyed whatever they had anyway. But he had never stopped mourning his loss of her, of what they might have had together, even if it could only have lasted a handful of years.

As the quiet of the night settled around him, the soft murmurs of the Calling became audible again, whispering its seductive song over his shoulder. Shouldn’t he have a couple more decades left before the Calling came, he wondered? He might have been out of the Grey Wardens for a very long time now, but if he ever had any questions about whether he still carried the taint, they had been definitively answered. How he wished he had never agreed to swallow that blighted darkspawn blood.

Without a sound, Selise reappeared, holding two large flagons.

He watched her approach without moving from his spot and noticed she was limping a little with each step. She slid down beside him and handed him an ale.

“Step on something?” he asked.

“Actually the other way around. I got stepped on. While waiting at the bar,” she answered.

“Let me see it,” he said, setting his mug down.

She sat forward and rubbed the toes of her left foot, crossing it over her other leg until it rested close to him. He ran his hands over the soft skin of her toes and massaged it gently, surrounding it with his an aura of healing. He felt the bruised vessels mend, but let his hand linger just a second longer than he needed to. He was grateful just to be touching someone warm and alive again, even if it was just the foot of a practical stranger, and even if only for a moment. He had to take these rare moments of human contact where ever he could get them.

He pulled his hand back and sank back against the wall behind him.

She whispered a quiet “Thank you,” and then settled herself against the wall too.

“Cheers,” he said as he held his flagon to her. She raised her own and took a small sip. But he drank deeply, savoring the cold bite of the frothy liquid.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to drink,” she asked.

He flashed her a curious look and then asked, “So… how much do you know about me exactly? Did you read all Varric’s books? Because I am sure you know that he is very prone to embellishment.”

“I did. I read those, and some others.”

“There are others?”

“Quite a few actually,” she told him.

“And yet you pretend to have no opinion of me.”

“We have known each other one day. What if I am choosing not to base my opinion of you off of books?” she asked him. “If that were the case I would need more time to develop a well rounded impression, don’t you think?” She had a lilting, soothing voice and Anders found himself just enjoying the sound of it.

“Well you’ve got me there,” he said. “I appreciate that actually, though my likeness from the books might be better company at the moment.”

“At any rate,” he continued, “I think we’ve made great strides for only being together one day. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.”

“Wishful thinking?” she asked.

“It’s probably not very smart of me, considering that you are the one who will be reporting on me to everyone. But, I guess I could just really use a friend,” he said. “It has been a very long time since I have had one.”

“You have been on your own this whole time?” she asked. “Since the Chantry?”

“Not completely, but there have been very few, if any, that I felt I could really trust. I seem to exclusively attract fanatics now.”

“You probably shouldn’t trust me,” she said quietly.

“I know. Like I said, wishful thinking.”

She turned her head and was completely still for a moment.

“Cole is coming,” she said.

“Should we go?” Anders asked as he sat up and took another deep gulp of his ale, trying to drain it quickly in preparation to flee.

“No need. Cole already knows you’re here.”

“Someone knows? Why aren’t you worried?” He asked as he froze, feeling his heart pound in his ears. To get caught so early would reflect very badly on Selise. He didn’t want her to be discredited so soon in their assignment. Who might they assign to him next if she failed?

“It’s okay. He’s a spirit,” Selise said. “He won’t tell anyone.”

Anders choked on his ale, and Selise had to pound his back to help him clear his throat.

“I’m sorry? A spirit?”

Anders scrambled up to his feet and looked around, and then felt him, as a cold stream of water down his back, a shiver raising the hairs on his skin. Then Justice was there too, knocking on the door to his psyche, recognizing a fellow likeness that was stuck unnaturally outside of the Fade.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

 

Anders blinked and suddenly the deep brown pools of his eyes were replaced by a glowing blue.

Selise was almost excited at the instant transformation. She had heard so much about it, and she had been wondering for much of the day how it was that this seemingly normal human man shared his body with another soul. Particularly the embodiment of something as important as the cause of Justice, but who, for some reason, spent most of his time lying dormant, despite the rampant lack of Justice in the world around him.

“It’s okay!” she insisted to Anders as she felt Cole approach behind her. “Cole, this is Anders. And Justice.”

Cole was silent, and Selise felt the rising tension in the air as the two faced each other.

“Justice?” she asked, waiting for the spirit inside Anders to speak.

“This is the man who has come for you?” Cole asked.

“Not for me Cole. He is here for the Inquisition. Just like you.”

“He is pushed aside, sharing a small room with a big spirit, squeezed into a corner,” Cole said.

“Can you talk to him? To Justice?”

“I… he, he twists and roars, he’s so loud I can’t hear what he says.” Cole continued, wincing and shrinking back. Selise furrowed her brow, trying to understand.

“He left a broken man, in bed for days, wanting death, but she came and helped. She picked him up and held him close.”

Selise looked at the face of the man she had spent the day with, now appearing otherworldly and absent. He still hadn’t said anything, and the blue glow of his eyes revealed nothing. Why wasn’t he speaking?

The velvet smoothness of his skin was eerily illuminated by the glow of his eyes, and she took a step closer to him, feeling a strange hum in her bones.

“A city rocked, a soul lost and wandering” said Cole.

“Yes,” said Selise simply. “That’s right.”

A commotion down in the courtyard caught her attention and she felt her heart catch in her throat. The light coming from the glowing man began to spread, breaking through veins in his skin to reveal deep lines of escaping light. The hum was growing, and she knew she probably would not be able to hide him for long if the light got any brighter. She took a deep sip of mana, placing her palms on his chest and unleashing a gentle wave of disorientation, the same as she had done with the soldier earlier. The glow of his eyes ebbed and faded and he staggered back, looking around with a wild panic. She grabbed his hands and planted herself right in front of him, willing him to hold her gaze.

“Anders, focus,” she instructed him calmly, waiting for the disorientation to pass. “Look at me. You are in Skyhold and you are safe.”

He blinked hard against the darkness, but she held his arms tight, not letting him take the frenzied steps backward that he wanted to.

“Cole, you should go. We can try again another time,” she told him, but before she was even finished speaking she felt his energy disappear. Cole had seemed to be frightened by Justice.

No one was coming. Whatever commotion was in the courtyard had nothing to do with them. But at least now they wouldn’t be seen. She waited there with him while he got his bearings, and then pulled him back to the place they sat before, next to their mugs of ale.

He brought his hands to his head, kneading his brows with nimble fingers.

She lowered herself beside him, picked up his flagon which still had a few drinks of ale in his, and placed it in his hand.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said. “Cole takes a while to get used to.”

Anders was quiet, still blinking hard into the dim air around him.

“Are you okay?” she asked gently.

“Are you?” he whispered, sounding much more frantic than he looked.

“I am. Everything is fine,” she said with a calming tone, and she placed her hand on his chest again and began to drain off the extra energy that was continuing to fill him with panic. She watched as his heaving chest slowed, his posture softened and the pounding of his heart abated, and then she drew back her hand, not wanting to take too much.

“Everything is fine,” she said again. He nodded, then picked up his mug and emptied it. He looked at her with black eyes and she had the desire to reach out and stroke his hair, to calm and comfort him.

It was already happening, she realized. It hadn’t even been a full day and night and she was feeling herself empathizing, getting distracted, getting caught up. She wasn’t a girl any longer, she reminded herself, and it wasn’t appropriate to indulge herself in infatuations the way she used to. She had duties, and she could not afford, nor did she want to fail at them. She had a reputation to uphold, one which had brought her into consideration for this post in the first place. She broke her eyes away from his and tried to harden herself again.

“Shall we return to our rooms?” she asked him, and he nodded.


	3. Chapter 3

She saw less and less of Anders over the next several days, as the Inquisitor and her advisers came down to question him about Corypheus and other things. She'd gotten the occasional glimpse of him as he passed to go to the washroom or kitchen before retreating back to his quarters. Particularly to the table which was now filled with books and stacks of maps. When he wasn't doing research or writing reports at the behest of the advisers, he was being visited by Varric. Selise had spent much of that time in her room, listening to the rumble and murmur of the voices through the walls and wondering what they were talking about. Whatever it was, it was having a worrying effect on Anders. The last few times that she'd seen him, his eyes had been bloodshot and his clothing looked disconcertingly loose. She had thought the meetings and visits from Varric would have been good for him, but it seemed to be precisely the opposite.

Occasionally, when he was in his room alone, she would consider knocking on his door and asking him for some tea. But she always talked herself out of it for one reason or another. He had seemed so interested in being her friend the first few days that she figured if he wasn't coming to her first it must have been because he simply had more important things to do, or he just wanted to be alone. It's not like he had been lacking for company after all.

She'd had little to report when she found herself seated across from Fiona and Leliana at the end of each of the two weeks. She had already seen Leliana enter his room numerous times recently, and once she informed them that he hadn't attempted to do anything or go anywhere, she was quickly dismissed.

One night, after realizing that he'd neither had visitors or left his room at all the entire day, Selise found herself standing at his door with a plate of food she'd scrounged up from the kitchen. Varric and the Inquisitor had just left to go down south to the Fallow Mire and wouldn't be back for weeks, but surely the advisers who still streamed in and out of his quarters had noticed how he'd begun wasting away, she thought. And yet it didn't seem like any of them cared. Or perhaps they, like so many within the Inquisition, were simply too busy focusing on matters of War to check in on a disgraced apostate's health.

She knocked lightly at first, listening hard for any sign of movement on the other side, but heard nothing. Her second knock was much more forceful, but still no one came. His door was locked, and when Selise opened her mind to the space within, she felt herself overcome with a bone-chilling despondency. Not knowing what else to do, she climbed the stairs in the tavern to the place in the attic where Cole usually stayed.

"Cole can you come pick a lock for me?" she asked as she approached him.

"I can. For your spirit man?

"Yes, I think he needs help."

"He would like that. Locked doors don't stop people who care."

“Oh good. Well then, this way,” she said. Cole was quiet as they exited the tavern and crossed the courtyard.

"You are a part of his pain, your colors sing of lost loves. It bites, drawing blood, but sometimes he likes it," he said out of the blue.

"Me?" she asked incredulously.

"You pick off old scabs. Under some are healed skin, under others open wounds."

"And he likes it? But we've barely even spoken in many days."

"But she comes soon and now he is afraid."

"She?" Selise asked. Sometimes Cole’s cryptic speak was tiring, even though she’d found it was usually worth it to try to figure out the meaning.

"He is the one who is really lost. She is found. She used to pick his locks too."

Selise thought about this as she walked Cole through the Great Hall, turning through the doorway to descend the stairs. A lost love is coming?

"Where does the spirit hide?" Cole asked.

"I don't know," she answered.

"I wouldn't like staying quiet for so long."

"Are we talking about Anders now, or the spirit?"

"Yes."

They reached his door and Cole went to work, moving deft fingers around tiny pins until she heard the click of the sliding bolt.

"Thank you," she said to Cole, but he did not move to leave.

"Would it help him to have you in there?" she asked.

"I can't help him when the spirit is in the way. I might help you."

"I don’t need help right now, Cole," she said.

"You do too. More walls must burn again, and soon."

"Okay," she sighed, "Well you did help. With the door. So thank you."

He waited a second, looking at her blankly from under his stringy blond hair, and then finally he turned to leave. She knocked on the door again, listening to the silence on the other side.

"Anders?" she called.

Still getting no response, she finally pulled the latch open and peeked inside. It was dark, with only a dim glow of the evening light casting out from behind the drawn drapes. She grabbed a lantern out of the hall, and walked quietly into his room.

The dome of light revealed his bare back nestled among the blankets and pillows of his bed. He was face down, hair splayed out in a mess of golden tangles. She set the lantern on an open spot of his overburdened table, and then crossed the room to seat herself on the floor beside the bed, bringing her face level with his. His back and arms were littered with the criss crossing of scars and marks of a lifetime of fighting.

"Anders?" she called quietly. He seemed to be lost somewhere inside some very dark corner of himself. This couldn't have been from all the days of meetings and, well, whatever else he was doing. Could it? Or was it something else? From the small sliver of his face that peeked out of his hair, she saw the crimson brown of a partly opened eye looking dully out at her.

"What happened?" she asked him. This person before her seemed nothing at all like the Anders she had spent a day with not very long ago.

He watched her for several heartbeats, and then his purple lid drooped back closed. She let his emotions come fully into her, and felt a thick, acidic despair creep under her skin and settle itself right in her center. Comforting him while in the fit of a debilitating depression was probably technically outside the scope of her duties, she realized, but if she wasn't there, trying to say or do something, she had little doubt he would just let himself continue to waste away. Even if she hadn't felt her heartstrings being strummed by his obvious pain, how could she just sit by and let him starve himself?

She reached a hand out and laid it gently on his arm, and his eye opened again. Then she reconsidered, feeling that wasn't enough, and moved it up to his head and began to softly stroke and caress his hair, feeling the aching sensation that was rippling through her core begin to ease slightly. But her chest had begun to feel heavy and her breathing labored, weighed down with a forlorn anguish that was not her own, and finally she took a deep breath and pushed it all back out of her, erecting her psychic barrier again. She sighed. It was all familiar to her; she herself had been in the same place he was now in many times.

"Anders," she sighed, "You haven't left the room all day. If this is how you would try to kill yourself, it is not a very good plan. You had to know I'd feel no choice but to come in here for you."

His eye flicked open again and watched her warily.

"I didn't. I didn't know that." he whispered, staring blankly at her. "Besides, no one asked you here. And you don't have to stay."

"But I do," she said, meeting his gaze and not looking away.

"I want to help." she whispered as she moved her face in close, "I understand…. this. I have done this before too."

He swallowed audibly and lay there for a minute, completely still but eyes burning up at her. She continued to gently stroke the silky strands of his hair. It was much lighter than she expected it to be, and had the slight stick of collected oils from days without bathing, but it was cool and soft, and felt good sliding through her fingers.

She waited, not knowing what else to say. What else _was_ there to say? She immediately regretted not making a softer case for her coming, but she felt like she was floundering, feeling completely unpracticed in the art of giving comfort. No one had ever comforted her when she was sinking down into the depths of her own darkness. She had no model to refer to for how to behave when on the other side.

Maybe just being there would help, she hoped. Just make her presence felt, so he knew he wasn't alone. She rested her head on his mattress and decided to stay quiet and let her fingers do all the soothing.

She woke when she felt the surface under her begin to shift and shake, and she lifted her head off the side of his mattress to see him sitting up. It was full dark outside and the lantern was burning low and dim, about to run out of oil. She rubbed at the crick in her neck and kicked her legs straight, trying to restore circulation to her feet. Looking up to meet Anders' eyes, she saw that he still appeared weary and drained, despite his full day of sleep. He was definitely much thinner, and like his back there were a surprising number of scars on his shoulders and chest, aside from the large smooth one at the base of his neck. Somehow she had a hard time really picturing him in battle. He just seemed so…. kind? Her eyes fell upon numerous scarred rings encircling both of his wrists, ghosts of some cruel bindings from a past capture. It brought crashing back the truth of who really was in the room with her. The reviled, complicated figure from the books and stories, and the apostate responsible for one of the biggest acts of insurrection in the history of the Andrastian Chantry. Over the two weeks that he had been there, she had managed to separate that fact away from the attractive figure who warmed the room beside hers, whose voice she heard through the wall.

She opened herself back up for a moment and felt that while he was still filled with the heavy aching, it had lessened somewhat. She was slightly unnerved by her unfiltered access to his emotions. She could remember no other person in her life whose feelings she could allow to spill into her at will. Despite the small amount of time they had spent together, there seemed to be some real metaphysical connection between them. She didn’t know how else to explain it. Plus, she had found herself thinking of him surprisingly often over the days, and had spent an embarrassing amount of time milling about in the library or kitchen hoping to steal a glance of him whenever possible.

She picked up the plate of food from his bedside table and sat it in front of him. It was only bread, cheese and some fruit, but she knew that unless he kept a store of food somewhere in his quarters, he could not have eaten at all that day. Then she stood and looked around the room, trying to get an idea of how else to be useful.

"I'll make us some tea," she said as she rushed toward the fireplace, and hung the heavy iron kettle, looking about for matches to start a fire.

"Wine. Is there wine? Or perhaps whiskey? Somewhere," he asked, his voice coming out in a rasp.

"Um. I would have to go get us some," she told him. "I can do that. If you'll eat first." She turned and walked back to the bed, sitting herself on the edge.

"Please. Eat." She said.

"What do you care if I eat?" he asked softly. The words stung a little. But she realized she probably had not given him much reason to believe she cared before that night.

"No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't say that," he said and then looked down. "You're being very kind. Thank you."

"Would you… like to talk?" she asked.

He sighed heavily.

"You wanted to be friends," she said. "Let's become friends. Now that you're not in yet another meeting and have the time. If you still want to, that is."

His distant eyes met hers, and he gave an almost imperceptible nod. She nudged the plate and he picked up a piece of apple and took a small bite.

"Okay," he said quietly. "Tell me about yourself."

She felt a trill of anxiety rush through her, prickling her arms. She hated telling people about her past. Often it made them look at her even more strangely than they did when they found out about the clairvoyance. She had learned all sorts of methods for deflecting questions and redirecting the spotlight when under scrutiny, so usually she could avoid talking about it. But he'd had a hard life of his own. Maybe he wouldn't look at her strange if she told him some things. She searched her brain and had no idea where to begin.

"What would you like to know?" she asked.

"Well… for starters," he began, "What is your favorite color?"

She gave a soft laugh, "Okay. Um… green."

"Hm. Green is good. Mine is red," he said.

"Red and green. I believe those are complementary. Across from each other on the color spectrum. Just like spirit and entropy,"

"Hm, That is interesting" he nodded. "Except reversed again. Red, the color of blood, should probably belong to the entropic, while green to the healer. Sort of how you should be light and I should be dark, but we're not."

"Why would you assume I should be light?"

"Well," Anders began quietly, raising an eyebrow, "what have you done that's so terrible? Could it really be worse than what I've done?"

"I have done enough." she said. "It is interesting though that the healer enjoys the color of blood."

"Perhaps. But… it reminds me of someone," he said, his eyes going distant again.

Right, she thought. Maybe that lost love Cole had mentioned. She felt a tiny spark of inexplicable jealousy, which she angrily smothered out. She wondered if she should tell him that this love of his would be coming to Skyhold soon. At least according to Cole.

"I have been… where you were today. Unable to get out of bed. Depressed."

"Depressed barely covers it."

"I know. I just… want you to know that I do understand. And… you can come to me, if you need to. To talk. Or need help."

"You mean that?" he asked warily. "You… haven't really shown much interest in speaking to me."

"You have been very busy. You must have a lot to offer the Inquisition for them to be down here so often."

He sighed, "Less than they would like, I'm afraid. I'm beginning to think they just want to make me suffer a bit, however they can, even if that means not giving me a moment to myself."

"It seems to be working," she said.

"Yes, unfortunately it is," he answered, "not that I needed their help with that."

She was running her eyes along the scar at his neck again, or as much of it she could see from under the messy waves of his sunkissed hair. How it had not killed him before he, or someone, had been able to heal it was a wonder. Whatever sword had done that must have been very large, and wielded with quite a heavy hand.

"I got it from a man who was trying to stop me from hurting someone I loved," he said as he followed her eyes. "These, too" he said pointing to two long, parallel scars that marred his taut stomach, just below his ribs.

"These were her actually. They're really the only thing I have left to remember her by,” he gave a sad laugh as he looked down and ran his fingertips along the shiny markings. His skin still held the last vestiges of its golden tan, and as she inspected the flecks and trails of past injuries, she also took in all the other details of his body. He was slender and toned, strong looking but not overly muscled. An even dusting of coppery hairs traveled from the center of his chest down into the front of his breeches. Despite his recent weight loss, he was still well proportioned, if a bit wiry.

"Why were you trying to hurt her?" she asked.

"It was Justice, or, I guess Vengeance. They’re sort of different. We'd been fighting Templars, and Vengeance doesn't seem to distinguish between enemies and friends," he said.

"He can’t even recognize someone you love?"

He shook his head and looked at her pointedly, gravely.

"You were right before, about my not drinking. Normally I don't," he offered. "I have done it many times with no problems, but if something… unexpected were to come up, it would be much harder for me to stay in control."

He stopped a moment, finishing the last of the bread on the plate.

"But you… seemed to stop Justice that first night," he said cautiously. "That was just using a disorientation spell?"

Selise nodded. She hadn't been afraid of Justice then, other than at his attracting unwanted attention. Though Cole had been afraid, which she found curious. She had actually experienced a bit of a thrill when she saw the change of his eyes. She felt the depth of his power then, in the hum that rattled her bones and the energy that filled the air. And she saw the sacrifice he had made, to allow another being to share everything about himself. She'd felt a little bit in awe. Possibly even slightly aroused.

Anders stood and walked to the center of the room.

"Come do it on me again. I want to feel what it's like without Justice in the way," he asked her. "I only knew a few in the Circle who used entropy spells, and they never seemed very good with them."

She stood tentatively and went to stand before him. She felt a little overwhelmed at the request to put her hands on his golden skin, which was radiating a decidedly pleasant and very male scent. Her complete lack of experience with men was making itself known to her, inciting her heart to race and her fingers to tremble.

"Just be gentle," he asked with a pleasant curl of his lips and crinkle of his weary eyes. She felt a flutter down in the pit of her stomach, but was glad to see him smile, however slight and tired it might have been. Part of her was starting to regret coming to his door, allowing him to have such an effect on her, an effect which could only be detrimental to her Keeper post. But another part of her was certain that she had to come. There was no way she could have allowed him to continue to waste away in here.

"Okay," she whispered and she placed the palm of her hand on the warm skin of his chest, feeling a sharp thrill race down her spine and collect in her knees. She inhaled a breath of mana and gave a light push of the disorienting spell.

He staggered back and his eyes went from the warm pools of rusty earth, to wide, blank and searching as they looked around and grasped for something familiar to land upon. But they did not seem to find anything. His jaw went slack like he might want to say something, but instead he turned to take a step toward the table that held the lantern, then stopped again. He took another two steps and looked around the room suspiciously for several seconds. Then, sensing her there behind him, he turned again to face her.

"Hello," he said, his purple rimmed eyes holding a question that he couldn't quite find the words to articulate.

She stood and waited. It should be dawning on him soon where he was. She had cast the spell as weakly as she could, in order to ensure that it only lasted a few seconds.

"Hello?" he asked again insistently, as if wondering if she heard him. He swallowed, blinking hard at the space around him, waiting for her response. But she only waited too, watching for the glimmers of realization to creep into his eyes.

And then they did; the confusion drained way and the memory of his request spread across his face as he looked around at the room and then back at her. His lips curled into a a little half smile.

"Oh, right," he said softly, knowingly, "Hello."

"Hello," she responded warmly.

"Well that was interesting," he remarked as he looked around the room again. "And that's what you did to make Justice go away?"

She nodded.

“How much worse can that get? Obviously you went very easy on me.”

“Much worse,” she said simply.

"And what else can you do?"

"Let's see, I can weaken, paralyze, strip you of your resistances and accuracy, fill your mind with horrible visions that will haunt you for the rest of your life, and make you go to sleep."

"Oh, lovely," he said pleasantly. "I could use a bit of that last one."

"Really? You seemed to have no problem sleeping on your own today," she answered, feeling a light euphoria spreading through her at his reaction to her magic. It was a very far cry from the usual dismissal or derision that she was used to, even within the Circle. It certainly wasn't the same thing as throwing a bolt of lightning, erecting a wall of ice or firing up a shield of protective energy.

"You have me there," he said. "And entropy is all you can do?"

"I have been able to produce a little bit of fire on a few occasions. But I don't control it well."

"Well, you've no need for fire if I'm around," he said with a tone that sounded almost flirtatious, "I can take care of that for you. But if you… are really able to subdue Justice when I get out of control… then that… changes everything." He paused, and his eyes deepened, reawakening that fluttering deep inside her.

"It remains to be seen of course whether it would work on Vengeance. He is a different beast entirely. I hope you never meet him."

"I hope I do," she said before she could stop herself.

"You might think that, but you don't. Vengeance has taken more from me than I could have ever imagined. He may be completely impervious to your spells, as he seems to be with everything else."

"I am not afraid of monsters. I have known many of my own. I was raised by one."

Anders said nothing, only held her gaze unflinchingly for several heartbeats. The moment stretched too long and Selise pulled her eyes away, casting them back down to the floor. Somewhere inside, she winced. This was not what she was supposed to be doing, she reminded herself. Her resolve to remain dutiful and a good soldier for the Inquisition seemed have to withdrawn from under her without her even noticing.

But had she even done anything wrong? She wasn't even sure she had. It had become harder and harder to avoid his eyes, to avoid sharing parts of her with him. The comfort, the ease with which certain words were tumbling from her lips was so…. Foreign. No, it couldn't have been right. And yet, she had no desire to leave.

"So," he said finally, "how about that whiskey?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She eased herself through the open door of his room holding a half full bottle. He'd gulped a bunch of water to try to rid himself of the pounding in his head, then put on a shirt and and tidied up his bed. If he was going to have a beautiful girl in here drinking with him, he should at least make the place more presentable, he figured.

"This is all I could find. I think it might be Varric's. I figured since you and he are friends he might not be as angry about it disappearing?" she said as she tiptoed back into the center of his room.

Despite the dramatic improvement in his mood since she had picked her way in, he still felt heavy all over and probably could have just continued to sleep straight through another night and day if allowed. But he was up now, feeling able to at least act normal for the moment and also slightly energized by the possibility of a way to knock Justice out of control. Not to mention the tiny fact of his growing attraction to her. Plus, Selise had looked genuinely concerned when she looked at him, and she was being so uncharacteristically sweet. It was enough that he decided he would get out of bed, he would talk, he would eat, he would keep breathing, for now. He would do all those things for her, if for no other reason. And, he really liked that she hadn't allowed a locked door to get in her way of checking on him. It was yet another thing that reminded him of Hawke.

And he did feel better, here immersed within the calm, understanding pool of her presence. Somehow he could tell that she really did see him and know his pain. She wasn't fawning over him, wasn't making insincere platitudes about silver linings or being thankful for what you have. She was simply there with him, distracting him with conversation and letting him hurt but at least not doing so alone.

He lit the fireplace and found two glasses, then sat on the floor in front of the flickering flames and patted the spot next to him. She padded over, barefoot again, and folded herself into place on the floor beside him. She barely made a sound when she moved, seeming so slight and wispy somehow despite her perfectly average size. The flames of the fire made her grey eyes look gold, and she had started casting her eyes down to the floor anytime she caught him looking at her, which he was doing more and more. He found her timidity — or maybe it was simple inexperience — charming, yet knew that when pushed she would probably be as fierce as anything he had ever seen. Why else would Leliana and Fiona let her be his Keeper, and with so little supervision? They must truly have thought her powerful to assign her to handle him by herself. The thought almost made him shiver.

"If this is Varric's, then it should be decent," he said as he inspected the bottle and laced the glass with an icy chill in order to cool its contents. He was a bit nervous imbibing in the hard stuff, something he avoided most of the time, but he needed to get out of himself. He was tired of all the reproachful words and stares of the advisers streaming in and out of his room, particularly Commander Cullen, who could barely hold in his disdain. Anders retained a grudging respect for the Templar despite that fact, since the man had fought on the same side as him in Kirkwall, and now seemed to accept that mages were to be given the very rights and freedoms that he had once worked to deny them. He was a study in evolving views, exactly what Anders hoped for among all Templars. But Cullen's tone and choice of words frequently had the ability to effortlessly, inadvertently shame him, eviscerating him down to his core without even trying. He understood that Cullen was a faithful man, still devoted to the Chantry if not the Order, and had personally been devastated at the events in Kirkwall, but even allowing him that, Cullen’s words still somehow bit him to the bone. And Leliana, as a former cloistered sister and right hand of the divine, was cold and ruthless in her pursuit of information. She at least was able to maintain an attempt at diplomacy, but she still managed to fill him with an icy chill during her visits. He wasn't exactly expecting a warm welcome from any of the Inquisition, but day after day of being reminded of how hated he was, how lucky he was not to be suffering the more gruesome punishment that he unquestionably deserved was taking its toll.

Not to mention the fact that how busy they were keeping him had made it impossible to learn anymore about the Seeker. As with so much of his life, he was left waiting, hoping for his chance to strike, not knowing when it would come.

But there was a bright spot in the whole situation. If Selise truly was able hand him control of his body again after Justice took over, and that whole thing on the battlements wasn't just a fluke, then that opened up a whole new world of possibilities. Especially if he could manage to keep her by his side.

He filled her glass first and she slammed back a gulp without a wince. He raised an eyebrow at her while he filled his own.

"Let me guess, you could probably drink me under the table," he asked. She looked over at him with her eyes sparkling.

"Probably," she answered matter of factly.

"So where were we? Oh yes… we were going to be talking about you, weren't we? Okay, so your favorite color is green. And… let's see, where did you grow up?" he asked. Instead of answering she took the bottle from his hand, filled her glass again and drank deeply.

"My family had land just outside of West Hill. North of Lake Calenhad." she finally answered.

"And when were you sent to the Circle?" he asked.

"Not until I was 18," she answered and he choked a little bit on his sip of whiskey. She watched him with concern until he'd fully cleared his airway of the liquid.

"Be still my heart! A fellow apostate!" he declared.

"Well yes, but not by choice," she said. "And I only spent three years in the Circle, and then I was… recruited into other pursuits."

"How did they finally find you?"

"I went to them myself," she said, sighing heavily. "I had no where else to go."

He cleared his throat, trying to blink back the surprise, and the desire to ask her what on earth she had been thinking.

"But Selise, at 18 you could have gone anywhere," he said instead.

"I wanted to learn how to control my magic. My mother was dead, I didn't know any other family. My father had only taught me so much, and I spent much of my time at home locked in my room."

"He is the monster who raised you then?" Anders asked gently.

She nodded. "He was a Templar," she said and Anders took in a sharp breath. "Well, a former Templar anyway. With a particularly virile hatred of mages, including me."

"Yet he kept you from the Circle? To what end?"

"My abilities were too useful to him for him to give me up. He and my brother would take me places and have me… assist in the questioning of other mages. He particularly liked the horror spell. It got him all sorts of answers. Not to mention the locations of valuable goods. He made me…. torture them. The rest of the time my mana was stripped and I was kept locked away," she sighed, eyes going dark. "Forgive me, but can we save the rest of this story for another time?" she asked, appearing pale, "Or at least perhaps until after I have had a few more glasses."

"Of course," he whispered, realizing his heart was racing and his blood was on fire. "May I ask you one more question, and then you won't have to speak of it ever again."

She flashed a nervous look at him, but gave him a small nod.

"What happened to him? And your brother?"

"They are dead. An accident by everyone else's account."

"Good. That is what I was hoping to hear."

"They died screaming," she volunteered, her eyes beginning to look glassy, whether from the whiskey or the memories Anders could not tell.

"That's even better," he said softly.

He tried to dampen out the fury that was coursing through him, taking deep breaths until he felt himself calm down.

He refilled their glasses and took a deep drink, staring into the fire. Finally, his body was beginning to feel light again, and loose. He rolled the tension out of his shoulders and exhaled a deep sigh of relief as the whiskey did its work in rolling the knots out of his soul, even if only temporarily. And then he looked back to Selise. Her eyes were locked into a vacant stare, her mind existing somewhere far away. He had the urge to run the back of his fingers down her milky cheek and into the flesh of her neck to see if it was as soft as it looked. How he longed for the touch of a warm body again, preferably someone who might actually care about him. To be a beacon of love among the sea of eyes that looked at him with hatred. He wondered what her kisses felt like. Her lips met in a delectable bow-shaped curve, he observed, and her upper lip pouted out slightly more than her lower one.

Her eyes flicked over to him and he had no doubt he'd just been caught sizing up her mouth. He cleared his throat again and looked away, letting his hair fall into his face enough to obscure the blush creeping up his cheeks.

"So, change of subject then?" she asked gently.

He looked over to her and gave a small smile.

"When would you like to start working in the garden?"

"Whenever you're ready to spend a night out under the stars with me," he answered.

"You can come get me any time," she said.

His slight smiled widened and he turned his eyes back to the crackling fire.


	4. Chapter 4

Selise awoke to a dry throat and a swollen head that throbbed unrelentingly. She winced at the piercing light streaming through her window and flopped herself over to her other side to hide her eyes from the glare. Too much whiskey, she groaned inwardly. Stupid stupid stupid. There had come a point in the previous night when she knew she was drinking too much, but despite all her better judgment she had still poured herself another glass. Anders too had gotten downright drunk, at first getting silly, and then sad, and then all conversation had faded into a tired, comfortable silence. Eventually he ended up laying on the floor with his head in her lap while she stroked his hair, the same as she had several hours earlier.

The memory of the feelings that had emerged the night before came stabbing back at her, making her cringe even as a confusing and excited shiver rippled down her body. She had a vision of herself in a small, quiet moment as she was admiring how the firelight enhanced the warm gold of his skin and how long the lashes were that were resting against his cheek. Her fingers were threaded through his hair, and she realized she had just been sitting there, looking down at him and she was struck by a feeling. It was appreciative and scared and adoring and felt very much like…. love. But that couldn’t be possible. Not so soon. And sharing feelings like that with Anders was not a path she was free to travel anyway. He was her charge, and should be completely forbidden to her. It could only have been the whiskey making her all soft and playing with her emotions. Besides, she barely even knew what love really was.

The way he looked at her after the whiskey had taken hold of him, like he was starving for her, had made it so that she could barely sit still for all the sensations coursing through her body. Unnerving, unfamiliar desires bubbled up that she didn’t know what to do with, other than to smother back down, the same way she’d been doing her entire adult life. But eventually the hours began to wear on her, and her eyelids had begun to droop and she couldn’t hold herself up any more. She pulled him up off the floor and helped him to his bed, his warm hands grasping the bare skin of her arms, and then she staggered back to her own room with her skin ringing with the memory of his touch. She could still feel it when she was lying alone in the darkness of her own room.

Selise rolled over again onto her back and kicked the blankets off of her, suddenly feeling overheated. And as she fully emerged from the last vestiges of her shallow, hungover sleep, she winced once again when she remembered she was supposed to meet Fiona and Leliana right after breakfast.

She sat up and the whole world lurched. Swinging her legs over to the floor and coming to a stand seemed to require a herculean effort that only made her dizzy and nauseated. Her heartbeat pulsed in her ears, and she groaned as she walked unsteadily to the door, pulling it open and making her way around the hall to the washroom. As she passed the kitchen, she almost ran right into an exiting Anders.

“Good morning,” he said softly and then let out a small laugh. “Don’t you look miserable.”

She conjured up a bleary eyed frown at the observation that he looked perfectly normal and not hungover at all. His eyes were still rimmed in pink, but he was up, alert and had apparently just eaten. Selise would have been happy that she had succeeded in pulling him out yesterday’s incredible funk, but someone had apparently filled her skull with molten lead while she was sleeping. She excused herself and continued making her way to the washroom.

“I can help with that you know,” he called behind her. She stopped in her tracks and let Anders approach. He stepped around so that he was directly in front of her and tried to suppress the small smile that was creeping over his lips. She must have looked as bad as she felt.

“I’m glad this is so amusing for you,” she croaked.

“It’s cute,” he said and she scowled in response, which only made him smile even more. “Don’t worry, you’ll feel better in a minute,” he said as he raised his hands and gently cupped her head, lacing his arms around her neck. His touch was soft and gentle, and quickly began to pulsate with a soothing warmth that washed straight through her. She closed her eyes, letting herself be filled with the sensation of Anders’ energy. It bloomed and expanded, growing beyond just her head and stretching down her neck to her lungs, wrapping itself around her and filling her up with his presence and his scent. She let go of the weight of her head, letting it rest fully inside his hands. With each pulse that she felt rush through her, more and more of the pain ebbed away and the more she surrendered to the forces of his hands. Finally the throbbing receded completely and there was only a pleasant, cascading shiver spreading from her scalp down to her fingertips and toes. She heard a low moan escape from her throat, and barely even recognized it as her own. When finally she opened her eyes, his face was hovering just inches from hers and she realized she had unknowingly brought her hands up to rest on his waist. His reddish brown eyes were smiling and burning into her with a satisfied warmth.

She sighed with relief, and then remembered again that she was about to prepare for a meeting about her duties with Fiona and Leliana. Duties which explicitly included not succumbing to temptation. But she barely even felt like she was doing anything particularly dutiful at all lately. Anders hadn’t had the time to try to go anywhere, and everyone had been coming to him. Mostly she just sat around trying to fill the empty hours while dodging all the foot traffic in the hall.

She took a deep breath, trying to press down the desire to just rest there in his hands all morning, and prepared herself to pull away from him. But before she could raise the movement in her wobbly limbs, he slid his hands out from under her head and straightened his posture, pointedly training his eyes onto something behind her. She steadied herself, and turned to follow his gaze. It was Varric, standing several feet away and watching them with his arms folded over his chest and an eyebrow raised.

“Sorry to interrupt you two,” he said to Selise, “but I need a word with Blondie here.”

Selise cringed yet again, and turned to step around Anders and close herself into the washroom. She sat on the room’s wooden stool and dropped her head into her hands. That could all look very, very bad she realized. She wondered what the likelihood was of Varric informing Leliana, but the more she thought about it, the more something told her she didn’t need to worry about it too much. Varric had been Anders’ friend for a long time and she couldn’t remember ever seeing the dwarf fraternize with the advisers. If he had loyalty to anyone, she would have expected it to be Anders first. You need to be more careful, she admonished herself sternly. Better yet, don’t get yourself into situations like that in the first place.

Oh but it had felt so heavenly, she thought as she sighed again, still feeling the tingles prickling her skin. If that’s how good it felt to just have both his hands on her, she wondered what it might be like to be fully in his arms. She shuddered.

In a sudden flash of sight, she knew why Varric was there. He’d received a message while en route to the Fallow Mire and had returned on his own in order to meet the arrival of the Champion of Kirkwall.

 

Based on how distracted Leliana and Fiona were as they greeted Selise, she could only guess that the news of the Champion’s arrival had already made it to the advisers as well. Since ascending from the lower floor, Selise’s mind had been racing with a million warring thoughts, particularly regarding what consequences there might be due to the presence of Marian Hawke. This was Anders’ “lost love” after all. Would she hurt him? Would he be back to spending all day in bed after she left? And she shouldn’t have anything to be jealous of, right? She and Anders couldn’t be together in the first place, despite the flashes of golden skin and warm brown eyes that continued to invade her consciousness. And then there was the fact that Varric’s books had detailed what sounded like a very passionate, and still ongoing relationship between Hawke and that elf from Tevinter. She could look into her mind’s eye and see that not only were they still together, but their family would be growing very soon. So what did she have to worry about?

What she really needed, was better control over her emotions and behavior around Anders. It went against everything she had ever experienced before with any other man to be so emotionally affected in so short a time. Her experience with men was extremely limited in the first place, and she for the last several years she hadn’t had more than just a passing interest in anyone. She had been glad to be free of distractions. Maybe Marian’s presence would encourage him to get a handle on himself as well. She and him were to be friends, and that was all. She couldn’t bear the thought of the disappointed faces of her employers if they were to discover that she couldn’t be trusted to complete a simple mission.

If not for the fact that her head and body were still carrying the warm glow of Anders’ healing energy, she probably would have felt much more anxious and jittery. But the lingering magic was imbuing her with a strange serenity, and she hoped that at the very least it would help her not to look too much like the proverbial cat that ate the canary.

 

“How are you getting along in this assignment? I know there has much less for you to do than we anticipated,” began Leliana.

“I am pleased with the downtime. I have been working my way through all the rare volumes in the downstairs library,” Selise told her.

“Well I’m happy to hear that. But things will probably be changing. The inquisitor has been reconsidering Anders’ future here, especially now that we have fully documented everything he could tell us about Corypheus, which was much less than we’d hoped. It seems Corypheus’ affect on his mind was severe enough to throw many of his memories into question,” she said and paused to reposition some papers on her desk. “Has he talked to you about that?”

“No. We haven’t had a lot of time for conversation,” she told them. “You and Cullen have been keeping him very busy.”

“Right, of course. One thing we know is that our questioning of him has reaffirmed our decision to keep him far from any fighting, or any important events,” she said and paused again. “Also, we are wondering, if you can give us any insight into his… psychological health? Commander Cullen is concerned that he appears very unstable. And we all agree that we cannot afford to let him stay here if there is any possibility of him being a threat to the people of Skyhold. Or that he might attempt to expose himself in order to bring problems to the Inquisition,” she said. Selise felt herself grimace at the accusation.

“Have you witnessed anything that should be of concern to us?” Leliana asked, eying her warily.

“Well.” Selise began, “He does seem prone to depression, but more of the despondent kind than the angry, lashing out kind. From what he has expressed to me, he prefers and values anonymity, and is grateful for the safe harbor here. I do not believe he is a threat to anyone, here or anywhere else. Except maybe himself.”

“Interesting. And how is your relationship? Does he seem to trust you?”

“Yes…. I think he does,” she answered. “At the very least he doesn’t believe he has anything to hide since I already know everything he has done.”

“If I might ask,” Fiona cut in, “Have you seen any sign of the spirit?”

“I did see him once, his first night here. I was able to subdue him quickly. It was not a problem.”

“Well, that is good, though that is probably something you should have informed us of, yes?”

“Probably. My apologies. It was such an insignificant moment that I completely forgot about it actually.”

Fiona and Leliana cast each other a quick look.

“Well that is good to know,” said Fiona.

“The Inquisitor has mentioned the possibility of moving him out of Skyhold, putting some distance between us and him in case it turns out he is as unstable as he appears,” continued Leliana.

“Well that’s my job, isn’t it? To make sure he never becomes a threat to the Inquisition or the people of Skyhold?”

“Would you not prefer to have your life back? We would be happy to push this through in order to relieve you of this post, so you can move on to other things.” Leliana told her.

Instead of feeling relieved, Selise felt a surge of anxiety. “To be honest, I think removing him from Skyhold and shuffling him from place to place, possibly into the hands of people who might mistreat him, would only remind him of his imprisonment in the Circle. And if anything is liable to make him unstable, I think that would be it.”

The room was silent for several long seconds. Selise steeled her eyes and tried to remove any traces of a grimace from her face. She must appear calm, reasonable and unbiased, she told herself.

“That is an interesting point,” said Leliana eventually.

“In truth, there has not been much change in my life since beginning this assignment. Other than gaining much nicer quarters.” Selise continued. “I would not be sad to see it continue. And I do not believe he will cause any problems that I can’t neutralize.”

“I see,” Leliana said and she sat back and looked over to Fiona again and they seemed to have a moment of unspoken conference. Selise’s heart jumped into her throat and stuck there, the seconds stretching into hours.

Finally Leliana continued, “Well as you know, we all have quite a bit on our plates at the moment, and the Inquisitor will be out for several more weeks at least. So it is certainly not a problem to postpone a decision about Anders until her return. In the meantime, please make sure not to forget to tell us any other important bits of information that might come up?”

Selise nodded and rose from her seat on legs of jelly. She realized as she was descending the stairs that her hands were shaking, but whether out of anger, or fear or something else she did not know. She definitely did feel angry, she realized. Angry that a bout of depression could cause accusations that Anders might just up and start hurting people. Had Cullen never been depressed before? Of course he must have been. Cullen had as dark and tumultuous a history as anyone else in the Inquisition, at least to her knowledge. That he might not still struggle with it from time to time seemed incredibly unlikely, yet no one was calling his stability into question. It didn’t automatically make him dangerous, did it? How unfair of him, of them all to level such an accusation at Anders. If it was anyone’s fault that he had started descending into depression, it seemed to be theirs.

 

She raced down the stairs with her fists clenched, but then stopped herself at the bottom and took a deep breath. She wasn’t thinking clearly, she realized. Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe it was her own history with depression. Maybe she’d killed too many brain cells the night before.

Of course, given Anders’ history, she should not be surprised at all at their concerns. Especially when taken along with his dramatically diminished appearance over the past week. Obviously they just didn’t see the man that he really was underneath the extreme action that he’d been pushed to four years earlier. They didn’t see a lot of things about him. They only saw a murderer and a terrorist.

She was jolted out of her inner dialog when the bald elf peeked into the stairwell with a questioning look. He obviously heard her come to a stop there, and must be wondering why she was lingering.

“Sorry,” she said as she pushed the argument out of her head and began making her way through the large round room that was his office.

“Not a problem. May I be of assistance?” he asked graciously.

“No thank you. I’m fine,” she called over her shoulder as she exited into the Great Hall. One thing was sure, she realized. She could no longer call herself unbiased.

 

 

Selise reached the lower floor of Skyhold and almost skidded on her feet coming to a stop when she spotted Anders in the library. He was sitting in one of the arm chairs with a large dusty tome open on his lap, but his eyes were vacant, staring right past whatever was on the page before him. She eyed him closely as she crept into the room, taking in his long nose and delicate mouth, the shading of stubble around his angular jaw. He had his hair pulled back into a ponytail and his deep brown eyes were far away.

“When would you like to go see her?” she asked him quietly.

His eyes flicked up and he needed less than a heartbeat to answer. “Now?” he asked.

“Give me a moment,”she said and she rushed back up the stairs and peeked her head out into the garden. It was midday and there were people everywhere. Some were working on the plants, some were lounging in the cool grass. Some were sitting quietly and listening to Mother Giselle.

She sighed, and returned to Anders.

“Do you own a hat?” she asked him when she returned to the library. He shook his head.

“Okay, well keep your head down. This is going to be interesting.”

Once out in the garden she tried to walk on the outside of him while he kept close to the surrounding wall. But the benches stuck to the wall were full of people, including many soldiers who would probably recognize one of the most wanted men in Thedas no matter how low he kept his head. They took tentative steps toward the stairs leading to the battlements, but then Selise was seized by an impulse, and she turned to send a small wave of a Waking Nightmare spell to a sour faced man on the opposite side of the garden. Immediately his eyes widened as his mind began conjuring up visions of whatever frightened him. He began to panic loudly, his voice rising into a shrill peal, and then he fell into a crouch, protecting himself from some unseen assailant. Selise watched as every head in the garden turned to observe the man, and then one by one people began to rush over to him to offer help. She grabbed Anders’ hand and they sprinted over to the stairs, climbing to the top as quickly as they could before anyone happened to catch a glimpse of them. The noise of the man receded from their ears as they walked quickly down the path toward the outer perimeter of Skyhold. She felt bad for the poor man, and wondered if maybe she could send Cole out later on to help him wipe whatever visions she’d given him from his memory.

They passed four soldiers on patrol as they traversed the battlements, each dealt with by a slight push of the disorienting spell. Finally they rounded a corner and Selise felt Anders tense up, his grip of her hand tightening like a vise. She looked over a ledge to a small section of roof that was set lower than the battlements, and there sat a black haired woman in a light suit of leather. She had two impressive looking daggers at her back, and was pouring over an open map, brows drawn in an intense focus. As soon as the stairs leading to her section came into view, Anders dropped Selise’s hand and rushed ahead.

She stopped where she was, and watched. She didn’t particularly need to go down there with him, she figured. She would let them have their space.

Anders sprinted down the stairs and halfway across the square to her, but slowed nervously for the final approach. She watched the woman’s head turn at the call of her name, her hair short and windblown, her features delicate but fierce. And then Marian stood and raced to close the distance to Anders, picking up his hands first as she asked him question after question. Finally she just threw her arms around him.

The Champion of Kirkwall. Selise was at enough of a distance that she couldn’t see her in detail, but it was clear that she truly was beautiful. She had lithe, muscular limbs and moved with a striking feline grace. And it was clear that even if she and Anders hadn’t remained lovers, she still cared for him deeply. They held each other for a long time, and still hadn’t yet let go when Selise finally turned away.

She walked over to the ledge of the battlements behind her and looked down into the icy valley below. It was a beautiful vista, if cold, distant and unnaturally still. She tried to bring the peace of the valley into her, to help her to calm herself and get a handle on her thoughts and feelings. But she felt like she was ensconced within a thick fog, her thoughts darting around and hiding just beyond the point of clarity. There was a deep ache in her gut, this one definitely belonging to her and no one else, as well as a general sense of need. She needed to _do_ something. Anything. But she had no idea what or where to begin to find out. But she knew that she felt now that Anders needed her protection. She had not considered that the advisers might actually be hostile to his presence here, especially considering that they were the ones who brought him here in the first place. But they were now conspiring to pawn him off onto someone else. At Skyhold he at least had a measure of freedom, thanks to her. Maker knows what any other regiment would do with him in their possession.

But of course the Inquisition was afraid, cautious and concerned. It was so difficult for her to hold onto the knowledge that what he did colored the way everyone looked at him, even people who knew him, making him a permanent target of suspicion regardless of his actual behavior.

She supposed her assumption that others might look past his history existed because she herself so easily looked past it. She wasn’t sure if she ever saw it, as she had always understood how such extreme measures came to be taken. He’d seen the need to force a much needed change, to free people being oppressed by a corrupt system that was ruled by fear and love of power. It would never have been peaceful no matter how it happened, but it needed to happen. But so many people, most people, were just completely incapable of seeing that.

She felt a deep pang of sympathy for him. He would always be assigned malicious intentions now, even though all he ever wanted to do was create real and important change that would help people. What a sad and lonely life.

She saw in her mind’s eye that he was coming up to get her now, to take her down to meet the Champion. Selise turned away from the valley and walked toward the staircase. Anders slowed his pace, his eyes revealing his recognition that she knew why he was coming, and he let her cross the distance to him. She wasn’t sure how she was expecting him to look after having just had an intense reunion with a ghost from his past, but she was not expecting to see the warmth that was there, the easy, proud smile he gave her as he waited for her. She would have guessed there would be more regret, more longing, more sadness. But inside the fiery eyes that were fixed firmly on her face, she saw only affirmation.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

 

 

Looking into Marian Hawke’s face was like staring directly into the sun. Her impossibly blue eyes were piercing and intense, and she had a vital, crackling energy around her that spoke of someone used to taking quick and decisive action. When Selise had descended the stairs at Anders’ side, Hawke had rushed forward and scooped up Selise’s hand in both of hers, holding it warmly as she introduced herself, earnestly thanking her for watching out for her friend. Selise immediately softened and went embarrassingly mute, feeling too awe struck at meeting the Hero of all the stories to conjure up any words that might be worthy of her. Of course Anders was in love with her, she thought. Selise felt a little bit in love herself. Who wouldn’t be?

Anders and Hawke had an easy, affectionate rapport and they spoke of many things that Selise didn’t understand, inside stories belonging to two old friends that made it seem as though there had never been any distance between them at all. Anders even looked different around her. He was revitalized and beaming, and seemed lighter and quicker on his feet. Selise was glad to see it, even though she again felt that little twinge of concern about what might happen to him after Hawke inevitably left. Would this energy, this joy he was infused with now continue to carry on after her departure? Or might it leave him crashing back down into himself again? Selise sighed, feeling nervous. She had no way to know what would happen, but knew whatever did, she would be there. She had been assigned as Anders’ Keeper, and in Selise’s mind that title was beginning to take on a much bigger meaning than just the glorified spy and damage control that the Inquisition had intended.  
Eventually Hawke asked Anders to give her and Selise a minute to speak privately, and Hawke hooked her arm into Selise’s, walking her over to a ledge that looked down into the courtyard.

“How is everyone treating him?” Hawke asked Selise as soon as Anders was out of earshot.  
“There are only a handful of us who even know about him. But outside of me and Varric… I only know how he looks after their meetings and it does not look good.”  
“It’s interesting though, encouraging even, that they would assign a sympathetic mage to be his guard.” she observed.  
“I’m not sure they consider me sympathetic. Or at least they didn’t at first.”  
“But you _are_ looking out for him?” said Hawke, her icy gaze piercing through her.  
“I am now, yes.”  
“Good. He is surrounded by enemies everywhere he goes. He needs a good person on his side.”  
“They are considering sending him away. I got the impression it might be just a matter of time before they do. They are afraid that he is unstable and dangerous.” Selise said.  
“That… makes sense. He is a sensitive and complicated man. He carries great burdens and they can get the best of him sometimes,” Hawke sighed heavily. “But you don’t agree with them?”  
“I don’t think he wants to hurt any body, no.”  
”Anders never _wants_ to hurt any body. But that hasn’t stopped him before,” Hawke said sadly.  
Selise’s mind was drawn back to the scar on Anders’ neck. ‘A man did that to stop me from hurting someone I loved,’ he had said.  
Hawke shifted on her feet and looked down into the courtyard with a worried expression. Selise watched her gravely, feeling herself prickle in the same way she had in the meeting with Leliana. She had to admit she did not know Anders well, and Hawke did, or at least she used to. Obviously it would be foolish to disregard Hawke’s concerns. But Selise agreed with one point: Anders needed someone who was actually fully on his side.  
“Have they mentioned where they might send him?”  
“No. But where ever it may be, it means he would be at the mercy of whoever receives him. That could go all sorts of ways. I don’t like it.”.  
“I don’t either. If he decides to run, contact me first. I might have somewhere safe he can go,” Hawke said. Selise looked down at her fidgeting hands. She had never considered the possibility of him running before that moment. It sent an anxious chill through her.  
“Do you think he would even tell you if he was going to run?” Hawke asked then.  
“I honestly don’t know,” answered Selise, ”you would probably be in a better position to know that.”  
She inhaled a worried breath. “Well the situation is different, but if what I knew of him in Kirkwall is any indication, there is a good chance that he will leave you in the dark in order to protect you,” she said softly, “But he also might need you. From what little he was able to tell me, it does sound like the Inquisition got one thing right in assigning you to him.”  
“I am hoping, perhaps foolishly, that that his running will not be necessary. If I can find him a way to be useful here I think I might be able to convince them to keep him on. He does seem to like it here, as long as the advisers stay away.”  
“I hope that’s true.”  
Hawke then turned to appraise Selise’s face seriously.  
“If you take good care of him, and you ensure he doesn’t hurt anyone, I will consider it a personal favor. And will forever be in your debt,” she said. “But I will kill anyone who hurts him. And that includes you.” Hawke stared into Selise’s eyes. There was no anger there, no vitriol. Just a simple warning. It would have been bone-chilling to any reasonable person, but Selise was surprised to find that she wasn’t afraid.  
“If anyone tries to hurt him, I will kill them myself,” she answered calmly.  
Hawke held her gaze for several seconds, and then her lips curled into an approving smile. She turned back to look into the empty, green courtyard.  
“He tells me you can stop Justice.”  
“Apparently so,” Selise answered. “But it has only been tested once.”  
“If that is true, then I can’t imagine a better companion for him. I hope that it is.”  
Selise felt the ice that had gathered in her heart begin to thaw, warming her from the inside out.  
“I wish you luck. I think you’re going to need it,” Hawke said as she turned to her and gave her hand a squeeze. “I should go say goodbye to Anders. Varric should be here soon. We are to ride out for a rendezvous with the Inquisitor as soon as possible,” she said.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
“So what did you two talk about?” Anders asked as they walked leisurely down the battlements back toward the Great Hall. The patrols were in the middle of changing shifts, and it was dinner time, so most of the residents would be inside filling their plates.  
“You, of course,” answered Selise.  
“Ah, yes. Did she threaten to kill you if you hurt me?” Anders’ asked amusedly.  
“Yes actually,” Selise answered.  
“Yep, that’s Marian. She’s a fierce one.”  
“I can see why you love her.”  
“Loved,” he said, emphasizing the d. “A part of me will always, of course. But she made a smart decision in choosing someone else instead of me. She’s been much happier than she would have been otherwise.”  
Selise didn’t know enough to argue with that, so she settled for flashing him a sympathetic look. But she felt a curious lightness overcome her at the words. She suppressed a small smile and stepped quietly along side him, beginning to feel a little bit like she was floating.  
She felt calmer since talking to Hawke, and yet more confused than ever. What if she woke up one morning to find that Anders had fled in the night? Her clairvoyance didn’t always pick up on everything, and she knew better than to rely on it 100%. Things that were done on pure, momentarily impulse rarely had much time to make it to her in advance, and rarely at all while she was sleeping. What would Leliana and Fiona have to say if he escaped right out from under her? And even worse than that, what was she to do with herself in his absence? She would be left wondering, worrying, regretting… She would be left with very many feelings that had made themselves known recently, some of which were completely new to her.  
The sense of lightness disappeared as she felt herself getting dragged down by all the different ways that things could go once the Inquisitor returned. She wasn’t sure she liked any of the roads ahead that meant anything other than just being here, with him. Would it be too much to ask that things just stay the way that they are for a little bit longer? Minus the depressing presence of the advisers?  
“Do you think you might want to stay here in Skyhold?” she asked him eventually. “Or would you want to eventually move on?”  
She watched as he looked down at the ground and considered his words.  
“You did say once that you had plans here...” she continued, “but after that, then what?”  
She paused, considering the possibilities. He had said in that conversation that he wasn’t planning on hurting anyone, and she believed him, even despite Hawke’s veiled warnings.  
“I don’t know Selise,” he answered quietly.  
“You still haven’t told them? Leliana and Fiona?” he asked as he turned his brown eyes toward her.  
“No. I wouldn’t know what to tell,” she sighed. “And I have no desire to encourage their suspicion.”  
“Even if they have reason to be?” Anders asked.  
“You said you weren’t planning on hurting anyone,” she reminded him.  
“Yes. And that is true,” he said quietly.  
“Well. I believe that.”  
He gave a soft little laugh and shook his head.  
“Are you saying that you… _trust_ me?” he asked tentatively.  
She sighed, feeling the fluttering in her stomach again. It only increased when she glanced up into his waiting eyes.  
“Something like that, I guess.”  
“Well that means a lot, coming from a clairvoyant,” he smirked.  
“For some reason,” he added softly, “I find myself trusting you too.”  
“That also means a lot, coming from a revolutionary,” she answered.  
“You… you don’t think I’m a monster, then? For what I’ve done?” he asked, his voice coming in a raspy croak.  
“Something had to force a change. It was never going to be peaceful,” she said. “I have always thought that.”

His eyes got dark and his little half smile disappeared, turning into something else entirely, something she couldn’t quite read. All she knew was that whatever it was, whatever it meant, it was flooding her with a million different thrilling sensations and making it incredibly hard for her to breathe. And that it was enough to drown out any remaining protestations of maintaining a professional distance from him.

The look they shared grew to an intensity that caused Selise to break her eyes away. She surveyed the path ahead of them, making sure they were still clear of any obstacles. After a few more of their quiet, unhurried steps, she felt the backs of his fingers brush gently against hers, reaching backward to caress her skin. She relaxed her hand and let her own trembling fingers interlace gently between his. She suddenly became acutely aware of how her heart had started racing. She took a deep breath and pressed down the smile that wanted to creep across her face.

The sky had turned from the gold of early evening, to a vibrant orange and purple. They were getting closer to the main building of Skyhold, and she knew that whatever cushion of time they’d had due to the changing of the guard was ending. Any minute now the new shift of soldiers would be making their way through the battlement paths, on the lookout for any conflict needing mediation, or resident requiring help. She grasped his hand fully into hers and urged him to walk a little faster. Before they reached the end of the battlement path a man emerged unexpectedly from a staircase just ahead of them.  
The hairs on her arm stood on end and she saw the scene unfold in her mind at the exact time it happened before her. The man ahead of them saw Anders first, and his face screwed up in an expression of recognition, and then Selise heard the metal grinding of a sword being drawn. Anders instinctively jumped ahead of her, attempting to put himself between them.  
“I knew it was you. I suspected it was you when we was bringing you across the mountains” the man snarled to Anders. It was one of the guards that had ridden in with him when they first arrived at Skyhold. “Got yourself a nice little piece of ass already, too,” he said as he flicked his eyes over to Selise. She felt Anders tense, the vibration of magic building inside him.  
Anders let out a sound sort of like a growl he lowered himself into a fighting stance.

“No,” she hissed as she pulled at his leather coat from behind, but he gave no response. Anders’ hair blew back as a blinding ball of energy manifested itself over an outstretched hand, and at the same time, the man swung a shield from his back into position and took his first advancing step.  
In her mind she saw a loud, violent battle happening that would surely get the attention of everyone nearby. She couldn’t allow that, she realized frantically, and in a second of heartstopping panic, she sent strong bolts of Sleep at both of the men. The energy wave left in a percussive burst and both of their bodies lurched when it connected. The man’s sword fell out of his hand and hit the stone pathway with a loud clang, and Anders’ palm went dark, the hum of magic receding.  
She was breathless for a second, her heart ringing in her ears as she waited. Both men remained upright, but were as still as death. And then as if in slow motion, the two men’s knees began to buckle and they both slid down to the ground, landing in crumpled, unconscious piles.  
_Shit_ , she thought as she stood there, letting out the breath she’d been holding. She saw in her mind that the soldiers were climbing the stairs in the guard tower, just steps away from emerging out onto the battlements.

The man couldn’t live. He knew who Anders was, and when he woke he would remember, and he would tell. Steeling herself for what had to be done, she walked over to the body of the unfamiliar man. She knelt down and lay her hand on the bare flesh of his neck, drawing out the energy of life that pulsed within him. His lifeforce dissipated into the air around her and she waited there, feeling the pulsations slow and weaken, the breath in him steadily ebbing away. When the lowest threshold of energy required for life was reached, she felt the silent reverberations of all the organs in his body beginning to fail. Finally it was done, and she stood to look down upon his lifeless body with horror. The last time she had done that was at the urging of her father. She felt the bile rising in the back of her throat, her mouth filling with saliva in preparation to vomit. But there was not time to think about it, or get sick, or to feel sorry.  
The sword. Without the sword, his death might just look like some natural failure of his health. But he had drawn it, indicating he had recognized some kind of external threat. She should try to sheath it, she thought, as she frantically began pushing on his heavy corpse, trying to roll his body to give her access to to the sheath. But it was fully under him, its length sticking out at a perpendicular angle, preventing him from being fully turned over. She kicked at it to try to slide it to a different position, but it only moved by a few inches. She conjured up all her strength for a final push, and when it still didn’t roll him, she stood to think. There was still Anders to consider, and her time was swiftly running out. He too was unconscious, but she had to get him out of there. She looked ahead to Skyhold, the outer wall of which was only several yards away now.

Not knowing what else to do, she threw the sword over the wall of the battlements. Luckily they were right at the rear corner of Skyhold and the battlements overlooked the outer wall, so that the sword should be falling down into an icy valley at that moment.

Selise rushed over to Anders, who was breathing deeply but completely gone, lost in a sleep as deep as a coma. She saw in a flash that there were soldiers on the battlements now, and any moment one of them would be turning a corner to come down the long pathway behind them. They would see them long before they were within range for her to cast a spell. She could sprint down the pathway and hope to catch them by surprise, and maybe put them to sleep too, but by the time she returned, there would be others, coming from different directions.  
No, the easiest thing to do would be to try to get Anders to that door, and quickly.

She shoved her hands under his arms and tried to hoist him up enough to be dragged. He was heavy, but she felt the adrenaline pulsing through her, forcing her body to work beyond its normal limits of strength. With each desperate step propelling them forward she made surprising progress, pulling him past the man, past the edge of the Skyhold wall, and up to the door. She tried the knob, but it stuck. The panic rose in her again, and she rattled the knob angrily, yanking on it repeatedly with all her strength. After one particularly enraged tug, the door flew open, causing her to almost lose her balance and fall back. It was some kind of storage room, and a very small one. There wasn’t even room for Anders to lie down in it.

But there was no choice. She hoisted him back up into her arms and swung him around so she could walk him inside backwards. She yanked hard until he was as far in as she could get him, and then lowered his back against the furthest wall. She tried to step off to the side of him, but there was barely room. And there was a barrel and several burlap sacks already cluttering up the corner. She crouched and pulled each of his knees to bend his legs and bring them fully inside the closet. Finally he was in and she stood again to close the door. But she paused for a second. Maybe she could throw the man’s body over the battlement wall. Then no one would ever know anything. He was heavier than Anders, but she had the aid of adrenaline at the moment. She peeked out the door down the long pathway, and saw that there was already a soldier in full sprint, advancing from the far side of the path toward the body.

She pulled her head back in, and closed the door as quickly and quietly as she could. The little closet fell dark, with only the small sliver of dim light coming from the open gap at the base of the door.  
She stood there for a moment with her heart up in her throat and listened for the sounds of the soldier approaching the dead man. There was a decent distance between them and the closet and all sounds that reached her were muffled and indecipherable. But with no actual wounds on him, she hoped that a natural death would be the soldier’s first assumption. What else could they think if the man showed no indication at all of how he had died? And maybe they would also just assume that he had forgotten his sword somewhere? She cringed at the unlikeliness of that, and brought a hand to her brow to knead and squeeze. Oh how quickly this whole evening had gone so wrong! If only she had seen him! It was obviously not something planned, and probably if she and Anders had been walking a little bit faster they could have avoided him completely. She wanted to bang her head against the wall in frustration, but could not afford to make any noise.

Instead she just stood there, frozen, paralyzed with fear as she waited to hear the sounds of the soldiers gathering and investigating. But even if there had been nothing for them to see, she couldn’t drag Anders all the way into the main building, through the Great Hall and back down to the lower floors. She had no choice but to stay put until he woke up, and she had no idea when that would be. Based upon the panic that drove the strength of the spell she cast, they could very well be in here all night.  
She let out a shaky breath and crouched down. If the soldiers got suspicious and came to investigate the closet for some reason, she would be ready with a spell. But until then, there was nothing more for her to do.  
Using her hands as eyes, she patted around the barrel, confirming that there was nothing sitting on its top. She slid the bag and the barrel to the opposite side of the little closet, freeing up the corner that was right next to Anders, and then hoisted the heavy burlap sack up onto the barrel, freeing a little bit more of the floor space. And then she tiptoed over Anders’ leg and pushed him over a little so she could settle herself beside him. She slid down the wall and found that there was barely enough room for the two of them to sit shoulder to shoulder. She eased herself in front of him a little bit, letting her shoulder overlap him and she relaxed back as far as she could.  
Her hands revealed that his head had fallen forward onto his chest, and she rolled his head up gently, allowing it to list toward her and rest on her shoulder. She rest her own head on top of his and tried to calm herself, forcing herself to breathe slowly and willing her limbs to stop shaking.  
After what felt like an hour or so had past, all distant sounds of voices and bodies scurrying about outside the closet had faded. She had no idea what they thought of the dead man they found, but they apparently retrieved the body, looked around where ever they thought to and then left. As far as she could tell, no one had even approached the closet. The light under the gap of the door was gone, and now she was surrounded by complete darkness. All she could hear was the deep, soothing rhythms of Anders’ breath.

Slowly, her attention turned back to him. Now that all panic had faded and she had begun to relax, she became vividly aware of the warmth that pooled along her body in the places she was pressed against him. She turned to touch her nose to his hair and inhaled a deep breath, savoring the distinctive Anders scent that nestled in the roots of his hair. She pushed her cramped arms out in front of her and stretched them, trying to loosen the tight muscles and aches caused by holding them tense for the past hour. With her arms free and raised, Anders head rolled back off of her shoulder and fell forward again, but she didn’t want to risk his head hanging so low that it restricted his airway. She wedged herself behind him so that she could wrap the arm closest to him around his waist, and pulled him toward her gently, slightly angling his body toward her. She reached around to cup his head and lead it gently back to rest on the wall behind him. His silky hair coursed through her fingers and she couldn’t help but raise them up to his face and trail them over his stubbled jaw and the lines of his lips.

Then she dropped her hand to his chest and let it rest upon the beating of his heart, feeling it rise and fall with his deep breaths. Without realizing what she was doing, she turned his resting head so that he was facing her, and in the darkness she found his lips with her own, brushing softly against the pillowy curves of his unresponsive mouth.  
After laying a gentle kiss on his lower lip, she rest her own forehead against his and closed her eyes, fighting off all the admonishing thoughts that were ricocheting out of the corners of her mind. She sighed and figured she might as well acknowledge that she didn’t really care anymore about what she was supposed to be doing.  
She realized then that she was completely and utterly lost. Lost to the Inquisition, lost to the Nightingale, lost to Fiona, herself and her own sense of duty. Lost to everything and everyone but the man resting beside her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anders back story is from my other fic, Hurt Me.

The first thing Anders felt when he woke was pain that rained in big angry drops down onto an acutely angled hand. It was asleep, begging his body desperately for access to oxygenated blood. He pulled it out from under his leg and shook it frantically, massaging the feeling back into his fingers as he turned his head to search through the darkness around him.

The next thing he felt was the aching everywhere. Crammed into a small space and sleeping so deeply that he hadn’t moved an inch for hours, had left him with stiff, seized up limbs that barely responded to his commands to move. He tried to push his legs out, and when his feet banged against a wall, he pushed himself back toward the wall behind him.

And then finally, he felt her. She was soft and warm and smelled like a garden after a rainstorm, and she groaned in pain when Anders inadvertently kicked her in his desperate flailing to restore blood flow to his limbs.

And then he froze, still feeling slightly sleep drunk and thoroughly confused. For a moment he was thrust back in time to the torture that was his year of solitary confinement after his last escape from the Circle. His heart began to race at the memory, but even in that cell he could completely extend his legs.

The only thing that stemmed the anxiety that was blazing up his spine was her. There must be a reason he was stuck inside a small, completely dark room if she was there with him, he figured. He blinked into the blackness, waiting for his eyes to adjust, trying to find darker shadows within the depths, but they found nothing.

He turned toward Selise and reached out a cautious hand, waving around gently and trying to be careful of what his hand landed upon, but he only touched air. After adjusting his trajectory downward, his fingertips connected with her stomach and he let his hand settle fully upon her, sliding around to her side and giving a gentle shake.

It was then that he realized that her head was resting on his shoulder and tendrils of her wild hair were tickling his neck. She had an arm squeezed between his waist and the wall behind them, and her legs were resting directly against his. She’d been breathing the deep, slow breaths of slumber but now she stirred, pulled out of sleep by the flailing foot that had connected harshly with her calf. As soon as he had the presence of mind to, he reached toward her feet, running indiscriminate waves of healing energy over her legs. And then he did the same for himself, trying to ease the stiffness and aching of his complaining muscles. But while his limbs needed blood, their lack of actual injury meant the healing energy did little to help, and the cramping continued.

Feeling the desperation of his cells crying out, he scrambled to a stand, feeling gravity help the circulation back down to his feet. The surface in front of him that he laid his hand on was old, heavy wood and as he felt around his hand passed over the handle that identified it as a door. Instinctively he turned the handle, feeling the little click that indicated that the door was not locked, but then stopped himself, remembering again that there must be a reason they were there.

“Selise,” he whispered, and after another second of letting the blood open up the clogged vessels in his feet, he crouched back down and put his hands out, running into her moving arms. She was still in her own slow process of waking and stretching and he hovered there to wait for her.

He felt a warm hand connect with his leg and he reached for it, moving up her arms to help pull her to a stand. She groaned as her legs extended underneath her, clearly feeling the same aching that he was.

She stumbled a little and he caught her, grasping at her ribs and helping her to steady herself. Even in the dark, even half asleep and aching, he still felt himself drawn to move in closer. His nose filled with her delicate scent and he knew that her face, her neck, all of her body hovered just before him in the pitch black, possibly only centimeters away.

“Anders?” she asked quietly and raised a hand to his face, sliding tenderly over his cheek to where his jaw angled up toward his ear. It was the first time she had touched him like that, with such deliberate affection, and his heart leapt at what it might mean. He leaned into her touch and closed his eyes.

“Yes,” he answered. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine. Just had to do a little creative problem solving,” she said in a low whisper. “And you?”

“A little sore, but… I’m good,” he responded breathlessly, wanting to turn and nuzzle into her hand.

Her fingers slid down his jaw, running briefly along the skin of his neck but then dropped away, leaving him to hang unsupported before her, his skin searing in the absence of her touch. He heard her relieved exhale as she seemed to get her bearings.

She scooted around him toward the door and cracked it a sliver, just enough to peek an eye through. After a moment of stillness, she opened it fully and took a tentative step out, looking up and down the battlements. She turned to wave him out, and as his eyes fell upon the top of the stairs several yard away, the memory of what had happened came rushing back.

He had recognized the guard too. It was a man who had cast him a few curious glances on the journey to Skyhold, but nothing more. Most of those soldiers had been kept in the dark, given a fabricated story about the cloaked figure they were escorting. Only two of them, agents of the Nightingale, knew the truth about who he was but they never acknowledged it and he hadn’t seen them again since his arrival. But his face was well known among Thedas, among assassins and opportunists looking to collect the bounty that Sebastian had placed on his head. It was only a matter of time before someone here recognized him. It happened every where he’d gone, ever since the day he’d mounted his horse and rode hard away from the city that he had sent crumbling.

But his memory went blank beyond the point of seeing the man sneer.

The sky was a deep, moonless black and there was a new chill in the air that he hadn’t felt since his arrival in Skyhold. Everywhere else in the south of Thedas it was approaching the autumn equinox. He wondered if the magic imbued within the rocks of their fortress would insulate it from the seasons the way it did from the surrounding mountain ice, or if they could expect to see a cold winter.

The hour must have been very late, he observed. Not a single thing in Skyhold stirred as Selise led him down the path toward a door and then peeked inside. He couldn’t help but run his eyes over every inch of her as she cut through the night ahead of him. The black hair gathered up on the back of her head was wilder than ever, snaking dark curls over the back of her pale, slender neck. She had her shoulders thrown back and walked lightly on the balls of her feet. He synced himself to her steps and together they moved, tiptoeing deftly across a balcony and down stairs, traveling the length of the Great Hall and then descended the stairwell that led to their lower floor, where she finally slowed, stopping in the dark.

Anders pushed a flame onto the wick of a nearby lantern, then turned toward her, feeling the little bolt in his gut as he met her large, clear eyes.

“What happened to that guard?” he asked.

“He’s dead,” she answered simply, her face flashing something dark and conflicted. Somehow she appeared even paler than usual, her posture betraying a heaviness that made Anders want to take her in his arms and comfort her. But before he had the chance, she turned on her heel and staggered as quickly as she could toward the washroom. He stared numbly after her for a second, confused, and then followed her down the hall as she disappeared, closing the washroom door behind her. He immediately heard the sounds of her retching, and unable to think of anything else to do, went to the kitchen to fill a large glass with water, and then returned to wait at the door.

What in the Void had happened last night, he wondered worriedly. He recalled the thing the man had said just before his memory went blank… he called her a piece of ass. Just the thought of that bit was enough to make his blood boil all over again. His stomach became a painful jumble of nerves as his imagination ran wild, trying to fill in all the gaps in his memory. Did she kill the man herself? Or had something else happened too? Had Justice emerged? Or Vengeance? Had Vengeance hurt her? Scared her? She was alive, unhurt, and so was he, at least besides the lingering soreness in his muscles from the closet, so if Vengeance was the culprit, it was still a hell of a lot better an outcome than what there had been in the past. Sometimes he retained awareness of what was happening while the spirit was in control, sometimes all he was left with was a chunk of missing time. Maybe this had been the latter.

The memories of Hawke flashed through his mind, of the moment he came to in a pitch black, completely silent cave with only the vague memory of Vengeance’s emergence. When he put his hands to the ground to push himself to a stand he almost slipped in a large pool of sticky blood. The ball of illumination that he conjured up with the remains of his depleted mana only allowed him to see several steps ahead. The cave was littered with bodies, including two bearing the distinctive symbol of the Seekers. After stumbling through pile after pile of mangled corpses, he finally came upon Hawke’s boots, and as he moved the light up her legs he saw the jagged gleam of protruding bones, and her head laying at an unnatural angle, and then her dead eyes open and staring right into him.

He’d heard his own terrified scream echo through the cave and the light in his hand died as he scooped her up into his arms, but his body was too wracked with sobs to stand or try to move her. She was gone, no trace of breath or pulse left. It felt like hours until he had finally been able to calm himself enough that he could pick her up, feeling his arm depress into her rib cage in a way that it should not have. He carried her to the cave entrance, pulling her step by step through the small tunnel that emerged out from under a low hill. He used the last of the daylight to find a spot to camp and build a fire, and then downed every lyrium vial they had both brought along, until his body was quaking with excessively amplified mana. He tried every healing spell he knew, putting as much force behind them as he could muster, going beyond the limits of his magic and pouring into it his own life’s energy, and somehow, something he did worked. The next morning she woke, though he was depleted down to his very last cell and could barely bring himself to move for almost a week afterward.

He shuddered, tears springing up behind his eyes as an errant imagining of Selise lying broken and lifeless flashed through his mind.

The second time Hawke faced Vengeance is when he ended up broken himself.

He could not allow anything like that to ever happen again.

 

He shook the memories out of his head and reminded himself that the fact remained that he did not really know what happened. He didn’t feel drained at all the way he normally did when Vengeance paid a visit, but he also knew he had slept for many hours.

He waited by the door, hoping that when she was better, she would finally tell him what had happened.

 

He almost felt hopeful that whatever had happened last night did involve Vengeance. If it had, and they were both fine besides a bout of nausea, then that was better than anything he had ever dared wish for.

 

Finally the door opened and there she stood, looking weary and disheveled, with her hair loosed from its binding so that it fell down her back and shoulders in large, tangled waves. Despite the purple bags under her eyes, despite the greyish tone to her skin, Anders felt his breath catch in his throat.

“Tell me what I can do to help,” he told her as he handed her the glass of water. She took it gratefully, emptying it in seconds.

Then she motioned for him to follow as she retreated back toward their quarters. She went straight for his door, and then waited for him to close the distance with the lantern. She was carrying her boots in one arm, her feet bare as was her habit whenever they were on the lower floor, and she entered his room and used her free hand to grab the bottle of whiskey off his bureau, and then turned to push him back out of the doorway. She handed him the bottle, then took his free hand and led him over to her door, giving him an unexpectedly warm look. He felt the shiver in his stomach intensify, making him feel light and slightly dizzy.

 

She closed the door behind them and dropped her boots, then took the bottle from him to gulp a deep swig out of the bottle of whiskey.

“Was it Vengeance?” he asked finally, “last night?”

“What?” she asked in surprise, “no. No, not Vengeance.”

At that Anders felt both relieved and disappointed, and he reached for the bottle himself. Selise dropped herself into a chair at her table and brought her hands up to squeeze her brow.

“Entropics drain life,” she said with a distant voice, “and that is what I did. But to be honest, I’d much rather just stick them in the gut with a sword. It’s so much less… intimate.”

“I’m sorry you had to do that,” he said softly.

“It’s unbelievably sickening to have to listen to very last breath and heartbeat as they fade away,” she continued.

“I can imagine that would be true,” he felt a profound swell of sympathy as he stood there and watched her look down at the tabletop, her fingers pressing and kneading at her forehead.

“I wish you had let me kill him. I would have.” He said as he joined her at the table, pulling the second chair around so that he sat close.

“You were about to draw a whole bunch of attention to yourself. To us.” she answered. “A destruction attack would have been seen and heard through the entirety of Skyhold, Anders. I had to put you both to sleep to prevent you from being discovered.”

“Right. I didn’t even think about that.”

“You need to think about things like that,” she said tiredly, as she took another drink.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he said softly, and then reached for her hand. It was cool and clammy, still damp from washing herself up after getting sick. She clasped his in return and held it tightly.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She met his eyes with a deep, sad stare and she didn’t have to say that she wasn’t. He could feel the pain in her, reflecting itself outward in the mirror of her eyes.

“I haven’t drained a man in a very long time,” she said sadly. “It took me right back to being in one of those rooms with my father… I always wished I’d never have to do that ever again.”

Unable to help himself, Anders slid his chair closer again, so that this time it thumped right up against hers. He leaned in and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her in and resting her in the nook of his body. He again had to fight his imagination, shutting it down before it painted pictures for him of a Templar monster forcing his daughter to help him torture one of her own. He clenched his teeth and looked around, trying to bring himself out of his mind. He picked up the bottle of whiskey and threw back another large gulp.

He finally relaxed back into the moment when he felt her nestle in close to him, sliding an arm around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder. He exhaled a deep sigh at finally being able to hold her the way he’d been longing to for days now. He closed his eyes and reveled in her warmth, in the solidness and realness of her body, of the rarity of actual human contact. After years on the run, years of hiding and enduring long, cold, lonely night after night where all he had were his memories and his imagination to keep him warm, he was a man starved. Ravished and ravenous for someone’s touch. He hoped she didn’t try to pull away, because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to make himself let her go.

She took a deep shuddering breath, sounding much more contented.

 

It had been great to see Hawke. She looked much more peaceful than she did when they both lived in Kirkwall. She had always been wired with a high-strung, restless energy then, always needing to move. But out on the battlements she had an almost unrecognizable aura of calm, and he could see in her eyes that the years since Kirkwall had been kind to her. He thought he would leave there feeling lonelier than ever, but was shocked to find that walking away from Hawke was easy. Hawke was happy, and he knew that he would never have the same fears for Selise that he’d had for her. Selise was uniquely equipped to handle him, in a way that no other woman could ever be. Even if all she ever was was his Keeper, he felt safe with her, but more importantly, he felt that she was safe with him.

The conversation that followed as they walked back to Skyhold only cemented in the decision that he had already made in his heart. And now she was finally there in his arms. He pressed his nose into her silky hair and rested his lips against her.

 

She did pull away from him eventually, leaving a cold empty gap where her body had been. And she stood to cross the room, pulling off her heavy mage robe to lay it across the chair. She had a light sleeveless shirt and leggings on underneath, and Anders had to tear his eyes away from the revealing of her gentle curves and milky arms. He took half of the remaining whiskey in a single gulp and left the rest for her, feeling the welcome loosening of the liquor begin to take effect. He almost didn’t hear her when she crossed back over to the table and emptied the bottle completely. And then he felt her warm touch on him again as she picked up his hand and pulled him to a stand, moving in close to rest her forehead on his chest and wrap her hands around his waist.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” she asked him quietly. Once the meaning of the words registered as reality, he felt himself almost break down, but he held himself together enough to whisper a shaky yes. He tried to steady his breathing, knowing that she was right up against him and could hear how disturbed it had become. But when she raised her head and looked into his face and he knew she had felt it. She had probably also felt his racing heart. He swallowed heavily and felt his eyes glaze over at the beauty of the face that was looking right into him.

She reached a hand up to caress his face, the same as she had done in the closet and Anders heard a whimper escape from his throat at her touch, and he leaned into it again. He took a few more deep breaths and tried to calm himself. She was just looking at him, her eyes soft, her pupils dilated wide. Her silky fingers ran over the skin of his cheek, working their way back to thread within his hair. He realized that he was gripping her waist very tightly and he tried to relax his hands.

“You’re vibrating,” she said softly as she traced her fingertips lightly down his neck, stopping at the base of his throat just above the collar of his coat. He hadn’t noticed it happening, but the energy of his magic had been building up along with the tension of his body, and now it was thrumming just under his skin, collecting and pooling, preparing itself to be unleashed. He felt an electric charge filling his fingertips and before he could stop it, a slight zap emerged between his hand and her waist. She gave a slight jump, and then a small, amused smile.

“Sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay. It didn’t hurt,” she said softly.

And then she moved her lips toward his, brushing them softly against his mouth. He wanted to dive in and kiss her with all the need and passion that was raging through him, he wanted to consume her completely, but he held back, letting their lips feel each other in soft, gentle strokes. And then finally she pressed her mouth harder to his and he opened, tilting his head slightly so he could capture her lips in his own, sucking gently and sliding his tongue along hers. His arms closed fully around her body, bringing her flush against him and running over her back, her waist, her shoulders, sliding up to cup her head and tangle themselves in her fragrant hair. He felt her grow stronger in his arms as she pressed back, pulling him hard to her and exploring him with her impossibly sensual touch.

She ended the kiss with a small nibble on his bottom lip and when he let out the breath he’d been holding, he felt like he was exhaling four years worth of tension. But the kiss had only fired up the ache within him, making him feel desperate for more.

“What about… your assignment? Your employers?” he whispered breathlessly.

“I don’t care about them anymore,” she answered. “I’m…not convinced they have your best interests at heart.”

He looked deeply into her. What could that possibly mean? She had been markedly different since her last meeting with Fiona and the Nightingale.

“Is it okay if we just sleep? I… I’m still very tired” she asked.

“Whatever you need,” he whispered he said as he smoothed her hair out of her face, “I’m happy just to be here.”

She pulled away and went to the bed, pulling the blankets down and blowing out the lantern. Anders quickly shed his robe and boots, and then removed his shirt, leaving on only a loose pair of breeches. He climbed into bed after her, and she settled herself against him. He sank down into the mattress, letting out a low groan as they intertwined limbs and her body pressed again his. Her head came to rest in the little nook below his neck, and he felt a deep, peaceful comfort fall over him. He whispered a small thank you to the Maker that he wouldn’t be tossing and turning alone in his room for yet another night, unable to purge from his mind the longing for the girl who rested just on the other side of his wall.

 

“You really thought Vengeance came out last night?” she whispered.

“I was afraid that’s what had happened… and thought that since you were okay, that maybe it was true that you could control him too. I think that maybe I got my hopes up a little bit,” he responded.

“Well, I do think we should… test it.” she said.

“Test it?”

“Yes. Lure him out and see if I can put him back down.”

“I don’t know,” he said nervously, “That would be too big of a risk. If anything were to happen to you I wouldn’t be able to take it.”

She was quiet a moment, and then continued. “Then we’d need to figure out a way to make sure nothing can happen. This is a fortress… there has to be holding cells here somewhere. We could lock you in one, while I stay on the other side of the bars. And then we’ll just….see.”

Anders considered that for a moment. It was an interesting proposition. “Bars won’t stop destruction spells,” he said.

“Could we…. Drain your mana somehow first? Not give him much to work with?”

“Perhaps… But what if you still can’t stop him?”

“Then I would pull back and just wait until you turn back into you.”

“What if I’m not back before all my mana is?”

“Then I guess I’ll have to think on my feet,” she said. “Anders, don’t you want to know?”

“Of course I do, but I can’t put you at risk like that! On purpose?”

“But what if I can stop him? What if you never have to worry about Vengeance hurting anyone innocent again?”

Anders was silent for a moment. The prospect was profoundly enticing, but no matter how many years it had been, he couldn’t shake the image of Hawke’s dead eyes looking back at him. Was that really worth the risk? And he would only be safe for as long as they were together. What about when the time came for him to leave Skyhold? What if she didn’t want to go with him? Then he’d be right back to square one anyway.

“Well,” he began, “that sort of implies you’ll always be around,” he said.

He felt her head lift, her hand reaching up to pull his face close to her again.

“Do you want me around?” she asked.

“More than I know how to say,” he whispered as he tightened his embrace again, savoring the warmth of her body against him, of the clean, earthy scent that was filling his lungs and his soul.

“Good,” she said gently as she let her lips find his again and she held his mouth in a soft kiss, but she broke away again.

“What lures him out then? Is it only seeing mages get mistreated by Templars?”

“Mostly. There have been a few other triggers… “

“Like?” she asked.

“Things that have enraged me my whole life that I had always been powerless to do anything about.”

“You can’t think of anything specific?”

“Um…”he laughed, “it’s tough being put on the spot.”

“Well I guess you’ll have to think on that. Figure out something we can replicate easily.”

“Yes, I guess I can try. That is really going to be the tough part, I think,” he answered, but he couldn’t deny he was feeling a nervous measure of excitement.

“Let’s do it,” she said sleepily, as she settled back down into him and let her heavy eyelids close.

The sky outside the window had turned from deep black to the dark blue of early morning, and Anders didn’t feel the need for more sleep. He was happy to lay there awake, savoring the sensations of her body against his. He brought a hand up to gently caressed her face and her brow as she slid off into a deep sleep.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Selise woke in the late morning with her body burning. As soon as she had the ability to sense her surroundings, she felt Anders everywhere, his chest bare, his arms encircling her. Her cheek was directly against the little hollow of his shoulder, and with every breath she took his scent wafted enticingly from his skin and into her, warming her more and more from the inside out. Even in her sleepy, half aware daze, she couldn’t stop her hands from roaming, her lips from laying kisses where ever they touched, her thighs from sliding between his. Her hips moved instinctively toward him, as if pulled inexorably by some primal force. She let her eyes open and looked up at the man who held her. He was the picture of sensuality; tendrils of his silky hair laying messily over his relaxed brows, splaying over his shoulder and pillow, his velvety skin still golden, his delicately defined lips calling to her. Everything about him called to her, begged for her to touch him.  
As she was admiring him, the striking reddish brown of his eyes appeared from under their satiny lids and found her face. They seemed to spark as they looked into her, and his lips curled into a little smile as he moved closer.  
Then their lips found each other again, and she felt the warmth of his mouth spread all the way through her, fanning the flames of the need that had originally aroused her from her slumber. His lips were skilled, and moved with a hungry, slow deliberation that felt like he was making love to her mouth. He teased soft moans from her throat and she felt herself melting further and further into the bed under his touch. Warm, firm hands caressed her face and her hair, running down the soft flesh of her neck and clutching gently at her jaw. Their limbs moved together in a slow, writhing dance while searching palms mapped out the cartography of each other’s bodies. She could tell by his jagged breaths and trembling hands that he was holding back and letting her lead, and as much as she wanted him to unleash the beast within, she also reveled in his slow, thorough explorations. He sighed and whimpered into her mouth with each new movement of her body against him and she let his tongue delve deeply into her, the power of his kiss turning her limbs to jelly.  
Feeling a quake of self-conscious nerves, she eventually she pulled back.  
“Wow,” she whispered. “I had no idea it could be like that.”  
He smiled and placed a light kiss on her chin, and then trailed more up her jaw. She felt almost delirious, intoxicated by his skin, his mouth, his scent.  
“Anders, I should tell you, I don’t really have much experience with this. I don’t really know what to do.”  
“But you’re doing fine,” he said as he kissed her again. “Have you never… been with anyone?”  
“Only once,” she answered softly, “and it wasn’t a good experience. Which is probably why it never happened again. I’m sorry.”  
“No, no, don’t be sorry,” he said, his hands caressing the lines of her face. The sensations he was manifesting in her crawled a trail directly to the warm, pulsing center between her legs. She had felt arousal before, but this… sheer desperation for him, or anyone, was entirely new. She wanted him, completely and utterly.  
“Show me what it’s supposed to feel like,” she said. She opened her legs and pulled him in even closer, bringing his lips down upon hers again. He exhaled a breathy groan and pressed himself fully against her, his hardness hitting a bundle of nerves that pealed ecstatically at the contact. She cried out into his mouth, and then he pulled back, looking darkly into her for a moment, before he began sliding down her body.  
“Where are you going?” she asked him, frantic that he might be about to leave her there, aching in agony.  
“Just trust me,” he smirked. He trailed kisses down her chest, and her stomach and then his head disappeared below the blanket.  
She felt his nimble fingers curling over the waist of her leggings, and in a quick move he had them at her ankles, pulling them over her feet. She felt the warm skin of his shoulders moving up between her knees, his hands sliding along the outside of her thighs and she opened fully for him, running one leg over his back.  
And then something soft and hot hit the bundle of nerves that was aching so exquisitely, his tongue sliding around that center of desire that was rocking her whole body with waves of need. Those lips, that mouth that had delivered such nectarous kisses upon her was now working its magic powerfully between her legs, teasing the already intense sensations into higher levels of ecstasy. She bucked against him and found herself whimpering and panting, climbing a ladder of pleasure that she had never known before. One of his arms swept the blanket back off of them, and his eyes were on her again, intently watching her face, observing what his ministrations were doing to her. She writhed and squirmed, her hands finding his hair and grasping handfuls at the roots.  
The wave of sensations was building to a crest, when a vision flooded in.  
“Commander…” she panted, “Commander Cullen…”  
Anders stopped, his head raising to look at her with a hurt expression. “What?” he asked.  
She pulled his mouth back down to her, desperate for him to continue, to take this escalation of pleasure to its inevitable climax.  
“No,” she said realizing hazily what he must have thought, and she swallowed and struggled to put a coherent sentence together,“Cullen is on his way…. only have a few minutes,”  
This energized him, and he wrapped his arms around her thighs, kneading at her flesh with strong fingers, pushing her legs up slightly as his mouth pressed harder, sucking and tonguing her with a renewed vigor.  
Finally the energy building in her body burst into an explosion of sensation that arched her back and curled her toes, rippling and quaking its way from her center outward to the furthest reaches of her limbs. She heard her own voice gasping in desperation and tried to quiet herself. She didn’t want it to carry out into the hall where Cullen should be approaching any minute now.  
With delicious aftershocks still coursing through her, she collapsed back, getting only a quick glimpse of Anders’ mischievous grin as he collected his clothes and darted out of her room, closing the door quietly behind him.  
She was still plastered to the bed, breathing heavily and trying to wrap her mind around the storm that had just completely rocked her body when she heard Cullen’s knock on the door beside hers. Anders didn’t answer right away, and Cullen knocked a second time. Finally she heard the muffled sounds of Anders greeting him, and Cullen entering his room.  
Selise felt like her whole world had just changed. How could it be possible that her body was capable of something so…. Otherworldly? Is that what she had been missing out on the whole time? Does everyone feel that way when they’re with someone special? No wonder people got so crazy about love and coupling, she thought.  
She couldn’t manage to wipe the grin off her face as she finally pulled herself out of the bed and made her way to the washroom to bathe. Even there she let her fingers linger where his mouth had been, recalling the delicious explosion that seemed to awaken a whole new hunger in her. Though even that new earth-shattering revelation barely compared to the power of his kisses. She found herself leaning back against the wall, running the scenes through her mind on the back of her eyelids, while she sighed and ached for more. She realized she had probably spent twice as much time closed in the room as she usually did, as she kept getting waylaid by waves of fantasy.  
Cullen and Anders were still closed in his room talking when she returned from her bath. As disappointed as she was that she couldn’t rush right back into Anders’ arms, she also knew she had things to do. She wanted to get out into the courtyard and be among the people, see if she could hear any mentioning of the man the soldiers found on the battlements the night before. And she also needed to find the holding cells, scope out any possibilities for a good location to try to lure out Vengeance.  
She threw on some clothes and then closed up her room, pausing outside Anders’ door to listen to the musical cadence of his speech and try to gage the tone of his and Cullen’s conversation. But the voices were too muffled for her to decipher anything useful. She gave a small sigh, and touched her hand to the outside of his door, knowing the man who had somehow completely captured her mind and heart was lingering just on the other side.  
She felt the grin spreading itself across her face again as she made her way up into the courtyard. The chill from the night before was still noticeable in the air, but she didn’t mind it. The sky could have opened right then and dumped a season’s worth of snow on her head and she wouldn’t have minded one bit.  
By all appearances, it was a normal day. Refugees gathered around clusters of tents and market tables, patrons streamed in and out of the tavern and soldiers practiced fighting on the small collection of wooden dummies. Selise walked lazily from one end of the main courtyard, down below the Skyhold steps and toward the stables, with an ear acutely tuned to the conversations around her. She spent an hour wandering around, stopping near groups of men and soldiers and trying to look busy enough not to be suspicious as she eavesdropped on them but she heard mostly gossip and bartering, with the occasional burst of male bravado. No one seemed to be mentioning anything about a mysterious death on the battlements. She hoped that it meant that anyone investigating assumed it was a natural death, but felt a small chill that warned her against getting too comfortable. It’s likely that the soldiers might just keep that little detail of the missing sword private, if they thought anything about it at all.  
After satisfying herself that there would probably be nothing to hear, she turned around and walked back toward the tavern, remembering that the door to the dungeon was somewhere in that area. She ascended the path to the upper courtyard and scanned the stone walls all the way around, looking for a door that seemed like it didn’t belong to anything in particular. There was one door that she tried that opened into a room that held a man looking down at a table covered in books and lists. She apologized quickly and ducked back out.  
Then the wall curved around to a door that had a step down to it, and Selise knew she had found the correct one.  
It opened into a long stone staircase that descended down below the ground, and which was lit through its whole length by spaced out braziers. She crept quietly down the stairs, and then came to yet another set, this one even longer. Finally she reached a vestibule that had a pillared doorway looking into a old, partially delapidated stone room. A single guard stood at the back of the room, looking out through a large hole in the wall at the valley beyond. On the right side of the room were three collapsed stone cells fronted by metal-barred doors. On the left were three cells that were intact. These should work fine, she thought.  
The guard turned abruptly and saw her.  
“Can I help you?” the guard asked.  
“Nope, thank you. Sorry I was just exploring… got a little lost,” she said. The guard gave her an annoyed expression and Selise backed out of the doorway, turning around to ascend the two long staircases back to the surface of Skyhold.  
If there was anyone there when they made the attempt, Selise would just have to put them to sleep. She’d need the guard to be there anyway, so she could get the key to the cells to lock Anders in.  
She was crossing in front of the tavern when she felt Cole behind her.  
“See?” he asked.  
“See what?”  
“You help him.”  
“Yep, you were right about that.”  
Selise suddenly got an idea and she stopped, turning to look at Cole.  
“Cole, you remember how his spirit came out that first night?”  
“Yes. Two faced spirit, he never knows when to help or hurt.”  
“Could you feel the one that hurts? The really angry one?”  
“But they are the same,” said Cole, confused.  
“Yes, but they’re different too. Two faced, you said it yourself just now.”  
“Yes.”  
“We’re trying to bring out the face that hurts people, so I can see if I can help him. Will you help us?”  
“He can change, if he wants it enough,” said Cole. “The man doesn’t want it.”  
No, he doesn’t, she thought.  
“The angry face frightens me,” said Cole quietly.  
“Okay,” she said feeling a rush of sympathy for the troubled spirit. “That’s okay. We’ll just try something else,” she told him as she gave a little smile.  
She raised a finger and brushed his stringy blond bangs out of his eyes, but they just fell right back into place.  
“There’s a man from the gardens yesterday who was having bad dreams while he was awake. Can you find him and make sure he’s okay?”  
Cole gave a little nod.  
“Mother Giselle will probably know where he is,” she said.  
“You gave him the dreams?” he asked.  
“Yes, I had to.”  
“Your magic can be cruel,” said Cole.  
Selise knew he was right, but his words still stung.  
“I know. I wish it wasn’t,” she told him seriously. She sighed and bid Cole a goodbye, resuming the walk back into Skyhold.  
As she entered the Great Hall with her mind wandering, she almost ran into Cullen, who was in the middle of a serious, quiet conversation with the bald elf. She excused herself politely and walked around the men, but out the corner of her eye she saw them both glance at her. If Cullen was up here and not down there, that meant Anders was free and she felt herself perk up a little bit. She wanted to walk faster, to rush back down the stairs and to Anders, but knowing she was being scrutinized, she forced herself to walk at a leisurely pace, keeping her gaze forward, trying to look as nonchalant as possible.  
She felt relief wash over her when she was finally through the door that led to the lower floor, glad to be out from under the scrutinizing eyes of Cullen and the elf. She couldn’t afford to make people talk or ask questions, especially now that she had officially betrayed her post.  
As she descended the stairs to the lower floor, Cole’s words continued to ring in her ears. She hoped he could find the man that she had thrown the Nightmare spell at and help him. She winced as she recalled the shrill cry the man had emitted once the visions started taking over. She’d always had a perverse curiosity about what people saw when she used that spell. From her understanding, the spell just manifested whatever fears already existed in their psyche. As she thought more and more about it, she stopped in her tracks for a beat. She knew exactly what she needed to do.  
Anders was in his room, his hair wet from a recent bath and he was sitting over an open book at his table. Over his fire sat the iron tea kettle and it was beginning to steam. Selise rushed into his room, hurrying a little more than she had intended, and closed the door behind her. As soon as he heard her, he stood and rushed forward, and they fell into each others arms.  
She groaned in relief when he closed himself around her and his lips met hers again. Her heart began to quicken almost the moment that she felt his touch. Finally, she sighed to herself. His hand came up to cup and caress her cheek, to hold her steady as his mouth claimed hers. She opened for him, eager to experience the delights of his lips again. She felt a wave of hypnotic sensation flood her body that made her simultaneously want to collapse into him, and also hold him as hard as she could, to pull him in and claw at his flesh, to open him up so she could burrow inside his chest. She did all of it, her hands raking down his back as she let her head fall so that it rest only in his hands, and she surrendered herself to him, to the thrilling heat of his body pressed against hers from ankles to lips.  
They were pulled out of their oblivion by the hissing coming from the fire, indicating that the water in the kettle was boiling over.  
She groaned some more when he pulled away, not wanting to be separated, but the hissing and spitting was only increasing.  
His eyes burned into hers as he stepped toward the fire and she swayed, feeling drunk and lightheaded in the aftermath of his devastating kiss.  
She sat herself at the second chair at his table and tried to get a handle on her thoughts again. There was something she was going to tell him….  
“The nightmare spell,” she said finally.  
“The nightmare spell?” he repeated. “Like the one you put on that man in the garden yesterday.”  
“Yes, it conjures up your fears and shows them to you.”  
“Okay, and what about it?”  
“I bet that would bring out Vengeance. You already fear Templars, imprisonment… many things that would anger him,” she said.  
“Yes. But my fears are not all relevant to Vengeance. I have many more… personal ones as well, that might not do anything to bring him out.”  
He came to the table with two mugs of tea and set one in front of her before scooting his chair closer to her again and sitting down. He took one of her hands in his and kissed it.  
“Right. Maybe if you think about, I don’t know, the Circle, Templars, something related to a great injustice then the spell will grab hold of that, and not something else? I’m sorry, that would still mean you’d have to endure the nightmares. From the reactions I have seen... it is not something I would wish on you.” she said as she frowned and took a drink of her tea. “Well, like that man in the garden. You saw him scream and cower,” She was only just then thinking of that part.  
“If you think it will work, we can try it. It’s a better idea than anything I can think of, short of bringing a Templar along with us,” he said.  
“And the dungeon has exactly what we need. I was just there,” she said. “I didn’t see any other prisoners, but there was a guard.”  
“Of course. Only one?”  
She nodded, falling silent as her hand was drawn to his face, as it always seemed to be she realized. She had noticed that almost every time she studied his face, it had become even more beautiful to her. From the light, almost unnoticeable dusting of freckles over his aquiline nose, to his dark, expressive brows, to the perfect square of his chin. She thought she could just sit and look at him all day. But not only did she get to look at him, she got to touch him, a fact that thrilled her more and more. She caressed his jaw, delighting in the course texture of his stubble, while he continued to kiss her other hand. She needed to be closer to him, she realized, so she scooted forward, until they had to open their legs to let the other slide in.  
“Did Cullen have anything interesting to say?” she asked him, “any mention of a dead guard with a missing sword?”  
“A missing sword?” he asked, tilting his head.  
“Yes, I couldn’t get his sword back into its sheath so I had to toss it over the battlements. Which means they picked up a guard that seemed to have died of natural causes, but who misplaced his weapon in the process. I just know that is going to come back to bite me somehow. But I didn’t hear any mention of it up in the courtyard.”  
Anders nodded as he considered this. “No, he mentioned nothing about that. But that little detail probably won’t be overlooked by everyone. Especially Cullen. He is nothing if not thorough.”  
“But, I am thinking that maybe, if it becomes an issue we should just… tell them it was me?” she said.  
He raised an eyebrow, “would that be wise?”  
“Well, I am not supposed to use lethal means, but if I tell them he threatened us, and you back me up, they might understand. What else could we do?”  
He nodded, bringing his tea to his lips, “Yes, maybe you’re right.”  
“So then the question is, do we wait for them to come to us, or do we go to them? No, I know the answer to that. I should go to them. I should probably go right now. I already forgot to tell them about Justice the first night. I have really been a piss poor Keeper to be honest. They probably regret selecting me.”  
“Well I don’t regret it,” he said. “If I had known that I would get you out of this whole deal, I would have let them catch me sooner.”  
“I should probably at least try to keep up appearances… let them think I am still on their side,” she said, even as her mind railed against the thought of walking away from him again so soon.  
“Are you not on their side?” he asked, his eyes closing as he caressed her hand with his lips.  
“I believe in the Inquisition of course,” she said, she felt her eyes glazing over as her arms tingled with goosebumps from his touch. “But I am on your side, Anders. Whatever that might mean.”  
His eyes flicked open and he flashed her a deep, warm smile.  
“I guess I should go talk to them then,” she said, even as she made no move to pull away.  
“Maybe not right this very second…” he said sweetly as he pulled her close, “let me have a little bit more of you first. Please?”  
She leaned in and gave herself over to another long, deep kiss.  
When it was over, she exhaled a heavy breath, feeling nervous and anxious and blissful. “Anders, I have never felt anything like this,” she breathed. “Or like this morning.”  
He tilted her face up and looked down into her with a satisfied little smile, and he kissed her again.  
“I got to sit across from Cullen for over an hour with the taste of you still on my lips,” he said with a sly smirk. “I think I should take all my meetings like that from now on.”  
“Not if that means you have to run out like that,” she whispered as she felt her cheeks grow hot.  
“Hm, good point,” he said.  
She took his hand and pulled him up to stand. But before she could take a step toward the bed, she found his mouth on hers again, his arms enveloping her and she pressed herself against him, feeling him grow hard against her. It fired up the memory of what he’d been able to do to her just a few hours before. He had run out unsatisfied, having only pleasured her and not himself. The thought of making his body burst with feeling like hers had unleashed a hot river of desire through her again. She was instantly aching for him, her body thrumming and trembling with the need to have him again.  
“I want to make you feel the way I felt this morning,” she breathed as she kissed him hard, and ran her hands over his robe, trying to release all the bindings. He helped her, pulling at clasps and letting his robe drop to the ground, but he still had on a light tunic underneath. Selise pulled on it, searched for a way to get it off without having to break her mouth away from his, but she couldn’t tell if it had buttons or ties, and it wasn’t budging.  
“How badly do you want to save this shirt?” she asked as she gathered up a handful, prepared to rip it right off him.  
He gave a light laugh and then pulled away, yanking the shirt over his head and to the floor in a single swift move.  
She shuddered at the feel of the warm, velvety skin of his bare body. She ran her hands over the smooth hills and valleys of his back and chest, and then moved her mouth down to his neck, sucking at his flesh and running her teeth along his collarbones, covering him with urgent, consuming kisses. He groaned a long, tortured growl that only made her try even hard to devour him. His head fell forward and the coolness of his damp hair brushed along her neck, increasing the shivers that were traveling along her skin. Finally she got the last scrap of her own clothing off and they were both completely bare, smooth skin against smooth skin, cool and hot and soft and hard all at the same time. She felt her knees go weak and she slid down to the floor, bringing him along to collapse on top of her. Her body was throbbing with need for him, and she opened, grinding her hips into his, her thighs slick with desire.  
He slowed when finally he entered her, and broke away from his kiss to look at her face, his dark gaze burning into hers, reflecting back to her his own desperation for her. He kept his eyes clamped onto hers as he filled her up, sliding against the walls of her flesh and igniting dormant, starved nerve centers inside her. She tried not to let her eyes roll back under her lids as he began to move, thrusting softly at first, but building up a momentum that sent wave after wave of the most delectable, the most exhilarating rushing of sensations she had ever known. It shadowed the ecstasy of that morning, but magnified immeasurably because he was there with her, sharing her journey into the perfect storm of madness and euphoria.  
Finally, she felt more of his kiss as he entered her mouth with a blazing fervor, doubling the rapturous melding of their bodies and fanning the flames of her passion into a fury. Eventually the tide of his climax surged over him like an ocean wave and he arched, his groans smothered by their joined mouths, his body tensing and writhing. But she held on, following after him in a delirious frenzy that incinerated her every last nerve with a sweet, delectable fire.  
He collapsed into her arms, chest heaving and body pulsating, and she snaked her sweaty limbs around him, fitting them into any groove she could find before relaxing back onto the floor. Nothing existed in the open landscape of her mind while they lay in recovery, only the feel of him in her arms, the weight of him against her, the swell of adulation that filled her heart. Slowly their breathing returned to normal and then she felt the tickle of his lips on her earlobe.  
“We didn’t even make it to the bed,” he whispered.  
“It was too far away,” she laughed softly.  
When the sweat dried and the sun changed angles in the sky, she realized she needed to make her way up to Leliana before it got too late. He pulled her to her feet and she collected all her discarded garments, needing to go on a room wide search for her smallclothes. She dressed reluctantly, wanting only to lead him to the bed and continue to luxuriate against his bare skin for the rest of the evening. But duty called, and she laced up her boots and tried to make herself presentable as he sat at his table, bare-chested, and in a loose pair of breeches, watching her with a satisfied grin. When she was fully dressed, she found him standing close, ready to pull her back into him.  
“Come back as quick as you can,” he whispered between the soft caresses of his lips.  
And she turned, steeling herself for the conversation with Leliana, whispering a small prayer to the maker that everything go as well as possible. She cast him one last glance and dragged herself away.


	8. Chapter 8

 It was the middle of the night when they finally pulled themselves out of bed and set out for the dungeons. Anders was shaky and pensive, his stomach roiling with apprehension. The closer it had come to the time that they decided to leave, the more his anxiety had grown, snaking cold tendrils of fear up his back. He was going to allow his mind to be flooded with visions of things that terrified him, and he wouldn’t know that those things were not real. Would he be reduced to a similar sight as the man in the garden, crouching, hallucinating and screaming? What if it completely backfired and served to enrage Justice/Vengeance beyond their normal capacity? What if even the dungeon cells couldn’t hold him and Selise came to be harmed? He physically winced more times that he could count, as the vision of Hawke’s dead eyes and angled neck repeatedly invaded his consciousness.

He’d been trying to hide his shaking hands from her, trying not to let her see how badly he was coming to dread what they were going to do, but the way she looked at him, lingering eyes wide and filled with an unspoken concern, he knew she could tell. The way she had made a point to touch him constantly in the lead up to their departure, either leaning up against him or resting a warm hand on his arm, giving constant quiet reassurance that she was there with him every moment, both helped and hindered. It was exactly what should have soothed his nerves, except it only made him more grateful to have her, and in turn, more and more afraid to lose her.

“Should we do this another night?” she asked gently as he was putting on his boots.

“No, lets get this done and behind us,” he had told her, even though he wanted more than anything to climb back into bed and hold her safely in his arms until the sun came up.

But Selise was strong, Anders told himself. She was powerful and quick on her feet, and her magic would work. Soon enough they would be walking right back out of there, and he would be secure in the knowledge that she would never be in danger from the spirit inside him, something he never believed could even be possible.

 

He clutched her hand tightly as they made their way through the darkness of the gardens, over the battlements and down into the courtyard. They stuck to the shadows as they approached the door in the stone wall, and Selise opened it as quietly as she could manage, eliciting only a tiny squeak from the ancient hinges. Anders’ throat seemed unnaturally dry as they descended the long sets of stairs, his head starting to spin with each step that took them lower and lower. At the base of the stairs she stopped him, and he stood numbly, heart racing as he watched her make her way forward by herself.

Selise peeked her head around a pillar and into the main room, and then waved for Anders to follow. He saw a female guard with her head resting on a table at the rear of the dungeon, and a slight pulse reverberated through the air as Selise released a wave of energy toward the sleeping body, additional Sleep to make sure that the guard wasn’t roused by the inevitable noise. They tiptoed deeper within and then both froze as they heard the rasping of a deep, gutteral snore. Anders looked at Selise, both recognizing that there was a prisoner present. In the furthest cell on the left side of the room, Selise propelled another burst of Sleep, then turned to retrieve the keys from the guard’s belt. She made her way back across the room, and opened the door of the cell closest to the stairwell.

Finally, she approached, her wide gaze penetrating him, making him feel completely known and transparent. She stood with him in silence for a few heartbeats, letting him ready himself in his own time. They had spent the entire evening since her return from Leliana’s office in each other’s arms. She had appeared back in his doorway looking wan and defeated, clearly having just received the tongue lashing of her life. And he had helped her put the memory out of her mind, wrecking the sheets of his bed until they only had the energy left to lay there. And lay there they had, for hour after hour, talking and kissing in between fleeting bouts of sleep. He still felt her skin against his, blazing hot in his memory, and yet that still didn’t quell the need to touch her again, his hands drawn to the softness of her and moving toward her almost of their own volition.

Touching her always seemed to turn into kissing her, which turned into holding her, and it was no different now. But this time his fear was driving him to drink in as much as he could and with a force that he was struggling to restrain. Just in case, spoke a quiet voice in the back of his mind. Just in case it was his last chance. He’d lost so many things in the blink of an eye over the past several years. He harbored no illusions that the unexpected bliss he had found here with her couldn’t disappear just as quickly.

“Are you ready?” he asked her. He intended to erect as strong of a protective and healing barrier around her as he possibly could, draining every ounce of his mana that he could manage into it, hoping to leave nothing left for Justice.

She nodded, and Anders closed his eyes as he reached out to connect to the deep, effervescent pool of mana that streamed in from his umbilical tether to the Veil. He pulled at it, sucking the energy in until it filled every cell in his body. Then he focused further inward, drawing the mana up into his hands and shaping it, weaving rivers of magic into a fabric that drew tighter and tighter together, slowly melding into a solid sheet and then an impenetrable wall. He trained the wall around Selise, and it took great effort to push all of it onto her, cocooning her. His barrier spells always wanted to stay with him. Even when he threw them out to his comrades in the heat of battle, some of the magic always stuck, sliding around him and coating like a patina. It was almost like his protective magic loved him, and resisted being given away.

But this time he pushed it off, scraping it from away him, demanding that nothing be left behind. As the last vestiges of the sticky magic left, he felt the strength of his body seeping out as well, leaving him weak and unsupported, like the bones of his soul were being removed, leaving behind a shapeless, undefined mass.

He staggered, feeling impossibly heavy, feeling the floor at his feet trying to come up to meet his head. But Selise’s hands were there at the first sign of need, holding him up and letting him rest on her. He nodded toward the cell and she carried him, step by step into the small space. Three stone walls fronted by metal bars. All that could be seen was whatever was positioned directly forward of the bars, so Selise could step off to the side far enough and be completely out of sight. Anders felt slightly reassured at that. If Justice couldn’t see her, chances were better that he also wouldn’t be able to harm her.

With each step she helped him take, his body adapted to the loss of his mana. His muscles reestablished dominance and his movements steadied. Finally he turned to lay one last kiss upon her feverishly hot mouth, and she slipped out the door and closed it behind her. Once the bolt was locked and the keys secured to her belt, she slid her arms through the bars and gripped him.

“Are _you_ ready?” she asked.

He felt the pulsations travel from her hands just seconds after he nodded. He waited, looking around at the grime coated stones of the wall, the dull gleam of the metal bars. Selise’s face remained the picture of concern, her hands warm and steady on his arm. But the room helds its position. No monsters flooded his vision, none of the items in front of him morphed lysergically into something else, no inexplicable fear filled his body.

He looked at her, looked around the room, blinked and blurred his eyes, waiting.

“Nothing’s happening,” he said.

She tilted her head, observing him, waiting too. He heard the echo of a distant click and the corner of her lip rose into a smirk. The door at the top of the stairs was opening.

And then slowly, Selise’s eyes grew cold.

She removed her hand from his arm and took a step away from the bars. “Oh it has happened,” she said calmly, just as Anders began to hear muffled footsteps growing louder. Bodies, several of them at least, were descending the long stone stairs, and Selise seemed neither concerned nor surprised. “It just might not be exactly what I led you to believe.”

Anders’ heart quickened with a frenzied flutter as the room around him swayed and he thought he felt himself listing to the side. He staggered, trying to catch his balance before he fell, raising a heavy arm out to brace himself on the wall, but his hand didn’t connect where he intended it to and his whole body slammed jarringly against the cold stone.

Selise’s smirk bloomed into a full smile at the approaching figures, and within moments she was joined by Leliana and Cullen, as well as a small troop of heavily armored soldiers. Her eyes shined especially brightly up at the blonde Templar, and he leaned down to press a lingering kiss upon her mouth.

“The Inquisitor might be willing to help you escape consequences for your actions in Kirkwall, but we… are not so inclined,” stated Cullen curtly.

Selise removed the keys from her belt and handed them off to Cullen.

“Ellana might not approve, were she to find out, but sometimes you just have to take matters into your own hands. Isn’t that right, Anders?” asked Leliana as she gave him a cold, hard stare.

“It might come as a surprise to you to know that I considered Grand Cleric Elthina like a second mother,” sighed Cullen, feigning a conversational tone, “She was a good woman, and did not deserve the death you gave her.”

Anders tried to push himself off the wall, to stand of his own volition, but he felt as though his bones were filled with lead.

“That wasn’t a nightmare spell Anders. It was a weakness spell,” Selise told him absently, her attention focused adoringly on the towering Templar.

“Why bother even putting me in this cell then?” he gasped. “You could have taken me from my room at any point.”

“You would have fought back, and we certainly couldn’t drag you through the Great Hall, could we?” asked Cullen. “Not without attracting undue attention. Luckily for us, the Inquisitor has already arranged for your transfer out of Skyhold, so this is where you’ll be staying until your escort is prepared, which shouldn’t be long.”

“And since she will be indisposed with more important matters until then… she will not have time to take notice of a few _changes_ ,” added Leliana.

The hair on Anders’ neck rose to a stand and he felt himself begin to shiver.

Anders watched as two soldiers stepped forward and grabbed Selise from behind, one roughly taking her by each arm. He felt the shockwave of the spell purge ripple out from one of them and the realization dawned on him. Though they weren’t wearing the telltale crest, they too were Templars. Selise’s eyes widened and she began to kick, “what are you doing? Cullen, what is happening?” she asked frantically, but the men held her fast, barely budging. Cullen glanced back at them and nodded his head toward the staircase. “Take care of her first,” he ordered. Every armored body followed the two carrying Selise back toward the stairwell and out of sight. Anders tried again to stand, but only felt even closer to sliding down the wall and ending up on the floor.

“It’s a shame about her, isn’t it? She was very useful,” sighed Cullen.

Selise’s screeches echoed through the dungeons, piercing Anders’ ears as it receded slowly up the stairs. He closed his eyes, wincing against the cacophanous, heartrending sounds. But the way she had been looking at Cullen... She loved him. Here she was pretending to love Anders, while all along she was doing Cullen’s bidding like a loyal, devoted puppy dog. She had lied to Anders, had led him there like a lamb to the slaughter. His chest pounded with a wild, aching panic, with the heavy crush of betrayal. And he felt his spirit passenger stir.

 _“This cannot stand,”_ Justice said, the voice coming as though it was his own thought.

“What can be done? We have no magic. We are locked in a cage. We are helpless,” Anders thought in return.

_“We must break the cage.”_

Anders felt the cold of the spirit inundate his flesh, washing over him like ice water. The reflection of a blue light flickered across the dark eyes of Cullen and Leliana and they took a step back away from the cell.

“If that demon within you is truly the embodiment of Justice, then he should agree with us,” called Cullen sternly as he crossed his arms over his chest. “He should want Justice for you just as he might for any other.”

Anders’ vision melded with the spirit’s and expanded, opening up to welcome in details of the world that were closed to him alone. He saw the energies that floated through the air in smoky wisps, emanations of the ancient magic contained within Skyhold’s walls. Colors gained new dimension and nuance, and Anders was momentarily mesmerized by the millions of pinpricks of varying greys that shimmered over Leliana’s hood, at one moment looking brown, and then purple and then white and then back to grey. Ripples in the Veil ebbed and flowed, curling around him in a translucent, flowing curtain. But Justice’s anger was rising rapidly, growing into a beast of its own that was crowding Anders out. He didn’t even want to fight back, so he didn’t. And he felt the unfiltered world around him begin to go dark, a roaring rising in his ears, drowning out the ambient sounds of the room. Anders collapsed down, relieved for a change to be handing over the reins to his body. He was so tired. So very tired.

 

 

 

 

A loud clang slammed him back into consciousness. He was crumpled into the corner, his limbs aching, his fingers burning. He rolled his body until he found his legs under him, maneuvering them clumsily into a position suitable for trying to push himself upright. But when he pressed his hands to the ground, the pain in his fingers tore a blazing path up his arms and he pulled them back, thrusting them under his eyes to observe that his fingertips and the palms of his hand were nothing more than bloody, pulpy shreds.

He looked around the cell to see blood smeared along the stone walls and metal bars. His own blood. From a point of pain on his forehead streamed a trail of wetness that ran over his lips, coating his mouth with a coppery tang.

Selise was there. Standing silently on the inside of the cell door, her back to him. Anders pressed his forearms against the wall and climbed to an unsteady stand. She would answer for her actions.

“Selise?” he asked angrily, and she slowly turned around, looking at him with an impossibly placid expression.

Anders recoiled in horror when he saw the branded chantry star on her forehead. His legs went weak and he felt himself falling back to the ground, landing hard on an uneven piece of the rocky floor.

“You require a healer,” she stated, her clinical eyes running from his hands to his forehead.“You should see one before your ritual.”

“Are they… are they coming back soon?” Anders asked, his voice ragged and hoarse, aching from what he realized must have been a long period of overuse. Vengeance had apparently pushed Anders’ voice to its limits as he’d tried to claw his way out of the cell.

“They are preparing the site for you now, and should be returning momentarily.”

Anders shuddered at the monotone voice, the lack of urgency with which she spoke. He felt down into his mana and discovered a small pool available, growing slowly drip by drip. He cast his healing spell over his fingers, and some of the flesh knitted itself back together, but after his magic was spent again many deep gashes and missing patches of flesh remained. He looked back up at her, feeling a sorrowful blade pierce through his chest. In just the past several days, he had already begun to love her.

“Why?” he rasped.

“To what are you referring?” she asked him calmly.

“Why did you do this to me?” He felt the sting of tears behind his eyes and he let them come, realizing with fear that it might be the last time he ever cried.

“Don’t be afraid. It is all for your benefit.”

“My benefit!?” he spat derisively. Anger flared, mixed with adrenaline and began to course through him, giving him the push to get back onto his feet. He took a fervid step toward her, feeling an uneasy sensation of deja vu as the blankness in her eyes mirrored that of an old memory. Karl. Karl had stood giving him the same disinterested and lifeless look all the while Anders’ heart was shattering. Two people he cared for, deeply, passionately, and he had to look into their barren, Tranquil eyes.

But Karl had also regained his full mind for a short period of time after Justice had appeared to slaughter all the Templars, he recalled.

Anders roused his spirit passenger again. Justice had no interest in complying, having already spent himself completely in that chunk of missing time, but Anders summoned the will to give Justice a sharp push.

And then he felt it, the coldness flooding him, the light breaking through, his vision widening. This time Anders retained control, strumming the fine line between oblivion and rage, letting the anger simmer, but not boil over. He advanced toward her but she stood unflinchingly, showing no fear as he stopped just inches away from her face. And he waited. It was the proximity to a Fade connected spirit that temporarily provided a link back to their former self. All he needed to do was be close, and let the Fade find her again.

Through the elucidating filter of the spirit he studied her face, which looked so different, yet still retained so much that he had come to know. Her silvery eyes were an utter paradox, shining reflectively, almost as though lit from the inside, yet somehow also missing that distinctive spark that made them truly come alive. Her lips were pink and plump, and had lost none of their allure despite the deadening of her expression. Vast networks of blood vessels spread like cobwebs under her skin, pulsing with life, the blood streaming in countless shades of blue, red and purple. At first the Veil hung limp and thick around her, but he saw it begin to twist and stretch, pulling thin in some places while bulging out in others. It was only a matter of time before she would be reconnected.

His eyes fell upon hers again and he continued to seethe quietly, feeling his own pulse like ice water in his veins as it raced through him, imbued with the essence of Justice.

Then he saw it, the life creeping back into her face. A flash in her eyes, a slight purse of her lips, a twitch of her brow. And then the flatness of her gaze was replaced with anguish and consternation.

“Tell me why Selise,” he demanded, his voice layered with the rumbling tones of his spirit passenger.

She drew her brows together, searching his face.

“What?” she asked him. “Tell you what?”

“Tell me why you would do their dirty work? Lure them victims and provide the means for torture?”

“No, no, Anders, wake up,” she called.

He blinked and couldn’t find the chantry star brand on her anymore.

“You still do your father’s work,” Anders spat venomously.

Selise flinched, her eyes radiating a searing pain. Anders felt a slight twinge of regret, which he immediately stamped out. She deserved to hear it. Any moment now Cullen and Leliana would return to take him to be made Tranquil and he would never feel anger course through him again. He would never have the means to say the things he felt.

She stepped off to her right and pulled a ring of keys off her belt, sliding one into the cell door. With two steps she was just inches away from him again. He felt a warm hand cup his cheek.

“Anders, you’re still dreaming. It’s time to wake up,” she whispered. He realized with confusion that he couldn’t feel the pain in his hands anymore. The coppery tang was gone from him mouth, and his face was no longer wet.

Selise pressed her lips against his, and he felt the ice in his blood melt. For a moment he gave in and kissed her back, the kisses calling up sensations that raced over his skin with an acute familiarity. No, he reminded himself sternly. She is Tranquil now, she will be deadened once more as soon as Justice is gone. He felt the animosity flare up in him again at her betrayal but struggled to hold on to it under her tender caresses.

He pulled back, eying her suspiciously. Where had the chantry star gone? He felt Justice sinking deeper back under his surface, hiding down in the depths of him, somewhere dark and unreachable.

Anders cast his eyes around. There was no more blood on the walls. He pulled his hands to his face to see his flesh intact and whole.

“Leliana and Cullen should be coming back any minute,” he said. “You said so yourself.”

“What? No, Anders,” she said as she rushed into him again, sliding one hand on his chest and the other around his waist.

“Anders, wake up. It worked.”

He ached to hold her in return, but his mind was not releasing the image of the smirk that preceded that devastating little smile. The way she had looked up at Cullen as she handed him the keys to his cell.

“Anders, it worked!”

He watched her numbly as she replaced the keys on the belt of the sleeping guard, and then took his hand, leading him quietly up stair after stair. He sleepwalked through the courtyard, through another staircase and then another, and down into the darkness of the lower floors. They had no lantern, but needed none now, knowing the walk to their rooms instinctively.

He paused outside his door, still failing at blinking away the images in his mind.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said as he retreated into his room and closed the door quickly behind him, leaving her on the other side.

He lingered there for a moment, his breath coming in shaky gasps. He kept expecting his throat to continue to hurt when he took a breath or spoke, the way it had back in the cell, but he felt nothing now. He had felt exactly as though Vengeance had spent hours screaming, wrecking his throat… and now? Just nothing?

That wasn’t a dream. No dream he had ever known had felt so real, or had gotten every tiny detail of the experience of his waking life correct.

He collapsed into the bed, squeezing his eyes shut until he saw greenish blue dots floating around behind his lids. He was about to jump back out of bed and light a lantern, give himself other things to see rather than replays of the past couple hours. If he could look upon the sky, or a book, or light a fire, maybe that would push the other images out.

One thing was completely certain now. It was time to retrieve The Book of Secrets from the Seeker and leave this place. 

But before he could rouse himself, he felt a small pulse of energy penetrate through the shared wall. And as it hit him it drove him down hard into a blessedly dreamless sleep. 


	9. Chapter 9

Selise stood in the dark, facing Anders’ closed door. The nightmare spell was horrific by its very nature, she knew that. So she supposed it wasn’t unreasonable or surprising that he might need some time to recover from the things he had seen. But whatever those things were, they had obviously featured her, and her skin crawled at the thought. What had he watched her do, or say while caught within that hallucinatory state? The possibilities were endless, made worse by the fact that they had been pulled from the fears already existing within him. 

She shuddered, and reached out to him psychically, opening herself to his emotional state. Immediately she was inundated with a miasma of emotions: a fast rush of fury, the heavy weight of a disappointed sorrow, and the fear, so much fear, all mixed in among a hundred other unidentifiable things. He was swimming in a sea of chaos in there. She ached to comfort him, to lay beside him and stroke his hair the way she had before. It had seemed to help him then, but he clearly did not want her assistance with this. Her forehead came to rest for a moment against the cool wood of the door, joined by the light, wistful skimming of her fingertips.

If he needed time, and space then it was not her place to deny him that, even though every cell in her body seemed to be calling out for him.

She took heavy steps to her own door and dejectedly entered her room, finding her way blindly to her bed. She fell forward onto it, and smothered her face into the blankets. She wanted to scream, to thrash about in frustration, but barely had the energy left to even roll over.

The whole day had been series of disorienting ups and downs. From the rant unleashed upon her by Leliana about her carelessness and the death of the man on the battlements, to the hours of naked, intimate elation with her new lover, to the agony of seeing him in pain, whimpering and thrashing, transforming, yelling horrible things at her. And then the triumphant moment when she laid her hands upon the weakened, glowing blue creature and drained him flush out of Anders body.

She continued to feel Anders' emotions, as they rose and fell. But beneath it all, she felt an undercurrent of exhaustion. She threw him a little pulse of a sleep spell, knowing just where on the other side of the wall his bed sat, and she felt him calm. She wished she could turn that spell upon herself next.

Selise kicked off her shoes, struggled out of her robes and climbed fully into bed.

He had been right about how different Vengeance was from Justice. Vengeance’s energy had filled that whole room, rattling rocks loose from the walls as he pounded wildly against the bars of his cage. For several minutes at least she’d just stood there, struck dumb and quivering as he stalked the cell, discharging unearthly sounds that she could barely comprehend.

At first she tried a small, cautious measure of the disorientation spell, but it did not have the same effect that it’d had on the calmer version of Justice their first night. Vengeance only got wilder, more angry.

Then she tried the weakness spell, pushing it at him with the entirety of her strength. After a few moments of draining her mana at him, he had begun to slow down considerably. His body rested against the cell wall, listless and gaping, but the luminescent spirit of Vengeance remained right on the surface.

 

“Vengeance?” she asked as she took several cautious steps toward the cell.

Somehow she was able to discern words within the bone-splitting thunder of his response. _“The failures and limitations of this mortal body are becoming tiresome.”_

“What are you trying to do exactly?”

 _“I seek to escape these walls,”_ he said as he pounded at the rocks with a force that made her worry that he could actually bring the wall down.

“Why?” she asked, taking another small step.

_“Why!? Does any being wish to be imprisoned unjustly?”_

“Would it still be considered unjust if Anders entered the cell willingly?” She asked him, "because that is what he did." She was surprised and shocked that the violent spirit was actually conversing with her, but decided she should try to keep it going for as long as she could manage. She took another step toward him, searching his glowing face for any resemblance of Anders, and seeing nothing of her lover there.

_“Anders does not wish for imprisonment.”_

“But this isn’t imprisonment… it’s an experiment.”

 _“You mean to make him Tranquil!”_ Vengeance roared. _“It is mutilation. And I would lose my vessel!”_ Selise pulled out a vial of lyrium, anticipating the possibility of having to refresh the weakness spell. He was still very strong, despite how he had been slowed. She threw the lyrium back, swallowing down the bitter liquid with a snarl. Tranquil. That must be what Anders was dreaming about.

“No, that is not true.” she coughed, “No one is going to make Anders Tranquil. I would die before I let that happen.”

_“I saw for myself what you intend, human.”_

“You saw an illusion, nothing more,” she informed him. “You are probably still seeing illusions.”

 _“I am seeing only you. And this cage,”_ he retorted. _“But Anders is seeing something. I can feel his anger.”_

“It is a spell.”

 _“And WHY would you make us suffer this spell!?”_ he roared.

“Because I needed to meet you,” she said, taking another step forward. She was close enough now that she could reach out and touch the bars of the cell. “You have hurt people Anders loved. You cannot do that again.”

_“I have hurt those who place themselves above the greater good!”_

“That’s not what I hear.”

_“And what do I care what you have heard?”_

The lids that once belonged to Anders blinked toward her, shining blinding white beams upon her.

“If you want to keep your vessel, you will save your strength for the opponents who deserve it most.”

She was at the bars then, and reached a hand out to rest upon his shockingly cold arm. It throbbed beneath her touch, singing palpably with a supernatural energy. Vengeance flinched, but did not move out from under her grasp. She pulled at the energy under his skin, using her drain spell to siphon out that icy stream of spirit that filled his body. Selise shivered as the cold infected her, traveling up into her wrists, her arms, breaking open veins of light that spread toward her chest. She was unable to control the spread, or slow its speed, but she did not remove her hand. It was not hurting… for all the iciness, it in fact felt strangely pleasant. Her curiosity was piqued, and she relaxed into it, letting it flow up toward her, climbing past her shoulders and into her neck.

When the surge of energy met her eyes, an ethereal shroud was lifted, uncovering frequencies of color she had never seen before. She looked up again at Anders’ possessed body and what was revealed there took her breath away. She saw the perfect representation of Anders, eyes glowing blue, veins bursting with light, but superimposed over him was the hazy image of an entirely separate being, hovering just outside the limits of Anders body, yet somehow attached. He was like a dog pulling at the end of a leash, breaching the boundaries of his yard, but only able to do so one foot at a time.

She turned away from the wilting figure and looked around at the room, seeing the Veil as it swirled around her, the light from the flickering fires of the room casting out a million pulsating colors. The air was alive.

And Vengeance, or Justice, was there with her in her mind. It was only the slightest sense of being followed, of having an entity watching over her shoulder, even as it coiled invisible tentacles around her psyche, reaching deep within to touch upon the hidden things lurking there. She touched it back, understanding that anger is what it sought out now, after habituating to an existence inside Anders.

 _“Anger can be utilized, turned into action,”_ it told her, reading her thoughts. _“Anders used to have an abundance of it. But he grows tired.”_

The icy cold had spread through her whole body now, and when she looked over to Anders again she saw that the superimposed image of the spirit had faded. Part of it was with her, while the rest must have fallen back down into his body, which still somehow rested upright against the wall. She expected that as soon as Justice was put away, his legs would give out and he would fall.

The spirit lens over her eyes revealed that the piece of Justice inhabiting her was joined to the piece within Anders via a silver string of energy that extended through their touch. After another moment of enjoying the swirling evanescence of the energies in the room, she finally she let go and pulled her arm back. That string expanded, becoming a wispy plume of smoke as the spirit traveled back to Anders. Slowly the blue light faded from her skin, rushing backward out of her veins and returning her to her usual pallor. The presence over her shoulder and the heightened visual acuity faded away, the cold disappearing, leaving her feeling feverish in comparison.

Anders still glowed, still thrummed with Vengeance’s presence, even though he was no longer speaking.

She seemed to have tamed the spirit somewhat, but she hadn’t yet gotten it to disappear completely.

She drank a sip of mana and sent out a wave of Sleep. It was a weak pulse, but it worked. The glow faded away and the gold of Anders’ skin returned. As she had anticipated, he had begun to slip down the wall and folded up onto the floor, landing softly with his head resting on his knees.

Selise sat herself at a table to wait. It was a very weak pulse of sleep she had given him, and should only be minutes before it wore off. She found herself studying her ordinary looking hands. To see them burst with spirit light the way Anders had, to feel the cold energy running through her veins, energizing her connection to the Fade, had been thrilling. And not only had she not been harmed by Vengeance, she had communicated with him.

She felt herself smile, feeling gratified and cautiously excited.

And then he’d begun to wake, murmuring words about torture.

“You still do your father’s work,” he had said. And immediately all sense of accomplishment, all satisfaction had been sucked out of her. He was wrong, but clearly he must fear that she was still capable of that. The thought stung her to her core.

 

 

She woke in the morning to the muffled sounds of a knock at Anders’ door, and before she was even fully awake she cringed. Coming right off the heels of last night, it was highly unlikely that Anders was in a good place mentally for taking a meeting. If Cullen had already thought him unstable, then speaking with him today would most likely only increase that impression.

She groaned and kicked off the blankets, pulling herself out of bed. She stood there in the middle of her room for a moment, feeling antsy and jittery.

There was a whole day ahead, and she had no idea what to expect from it. Would the dreams still be kicking around in Anders’ head today, causing him to keep his distance from her? Would he be willing to talk to her about it, or would it still be too son?

Perhaps she should use the day to see to practical matters and just give him his space, she figured. Replenish supplies in the kitchen, laundry, changing the bedding. Things that always needed to be done, regardless of how caught up in the dramas of life one might get. At least attending to some of their necessities would give her something to do.

She walked out of her quarters intending only to go to the kitchen, but ended up walking all the way through the main room, up the stairs, through the Great Hall and out to the courtyard. Each day held a bit of a chill now, which was especially apparent on her bare feet, and she made her way over to the tree just outside of the surgeon’s tents that she usually sat under to read. The tree she had been sitting under the first time she saw the cloaked figure come through the Skyhold gate. But she hadn’t brought a book this time. She hadn’t been expecting to find herself out here at all. She collapsed down under the branches, stretching her legs out and looking around at Skyhold in the morning. Windows were pushed open and puffy eyed residents looked out to sniff the air. A group of new soldier recruits streamed obediently up the stairs toward the Great Hall, following a gruff looking old man clad in battle worn armor. Some people moved with purpose, such as the tall Qunari man with the eye patch who strode from the stables over to a market table. And some seemed to just be trying to figure out what to do with themselves, like her.

Selise laid back in the grass and looked up into the green branches that arced over her head. She took a deep breath and tried to release all the tension still being hoarded in her muscles from the night before. She had no idea what she was doing out there, or what the others in Skyhold would think to see a girl laying barefoot in the grass in the early morning hours. But she didn’t particularly care. She’d had no idea what she was in for when she accepted Fiona and Leliana’s assignment all those weeks ago, and she wasn’t sure if she had really spent any time processing it, especially recently. From the moment she had Cole pick the lock to Anders’ door, life had become a dizzying whirlwind.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she barely even recognized herself any more. It was certainly never like her to shrug off her duties, to disobey orders, to work against her mentors like she had. Not to mention the fact of her lusting after a man… Well, more than just lust. Quite a bit more, she realized. He had changed her, significantly, but yet she felt like she was following her own instincts now more than she ever had before.

She had no idea what the future held. She had no idea if he would be in it, or how long the visions from the nightmare spell would continue to haunt him, overshadowing the accomplishment of the goal that had driven them there in the first place. She could try to get him and Cole together again, see if Cole could do his work with Anders, cleansing him of the dreams. If Cole was willing. She always seemed to be asking Cole for something. He liked to help, but she regretted being such a burden to him. And if he was frightened of Anders’ spirit, then how could she ask him to just put that aside and help her yet again?

So many unknowns, everywhere she looked.

After an hour lost in thought, she collected herself and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a basket and filling it with supplies. She tucked portions of Tea, breads, cheese, some cooked chicken and a few other things inside, and then turned back to the Great Hall, crossing to the stairwell that carried her back to her and Anders’ little nook.

She refilled their cupboards and then tiptoed nervously toward their rooms. Anders’ door was closed and no conversation was audible through the thick wood. She sighed and continued walking, entering her own room. She stripped her bed and wadded up the linens into a ball to be carried up to the laundry, collecting items of clothing and trying to push the thoughts of what she really wanted to be doing out of her mind. But in the middle of carrying the bundle toward the door she stopped and let it all fall to the floor. This wasn’t going to do, she thought.

She wanted to give Anders his space, and let him come to her when he was ready, but she also wanted to make him look at her and hope that the real, flesh and blood person standing before him would help wipe away the memory of the dream version of her. She wanted to ask that he talk to her, that they work through whatever he was feeling.

She made the quick decision to obey her impulse, and within moments found herself facing Anders’ door again. She knocked a quick, sharp knock, gave it a second and then let herself in.

He was standing beside his table, sorting through a stack of books.

She approached him quietly, studying his face as he looked up at her, his reddish brown eyes communicating a depth of confusion that tugged heavily on her heart. She stopped herself just a few feet away, summoning the will not to move in immediately and press her lips onto his. She forced her eyes to the floor, finding that the sight of him was inciting painful streaks of longing. Longing to hold him, to kiss him.

“Tell me what you saw,” she asked him softly. “It might help you process it.”

She gave him a second, but all she heard from him in response was a deep exhale.

“Vengeance mentioned something about my wanting to make you Tranquil.”

He swallowed audibly and shifted his weight on his feet.

“Have a conversation with him, did you?” He asked softly.

“Yes,” she answered.

At that Anders’ raised an eyebrow, his eyes running over her in disbelief.

“You do seem to have had some effect on him…” he said with a far way voice, “I can feel him, right now, reaching for you.”

Selise was quiet for a moment. Should she tell him that she had shared his spirit for a few minutes the night before? The words were close to the tip of her tongue when Anders looked up and continued speaking.

“You locked me up so that they could come make me Tranquil. But they made you Tranquil first. They…” he stopped as he looked up to her forehead, raising a hand to caress the center of it lightly with his thumb. “Maker’s Breath, I can’t even…” he said as his hand dropped and he hung his head, kneading at his brows with long fingers.

“But….. it did work?” he asked, flicking his eyes up to hers, “You were able to stop him?”

Selise nodded, and she reached a hand out toward his, grasping it and pulling it to her face. She laid soft kisses on the pads of his fingers and she sensed his body softening. She took another step closer, finding her face level with the warm fragrant nook of his neck. Before she could stop herself, she was bringing her lips to the line of his jaw, inhaling deeply as she nuzzled into him, savoring the velvety skin of his neck. She almost moaned at the deliciousness of his scent, at the magnetic draw of her body to his, a draw that only seemed to grow the closer to him she got.

He lowered his head further and leaned into her, the soft cascade of his honey colored hair tickling her cheek.

“Anders…” she whispered, but she didn’t know what she intended to say beyond that. Come back to me. I need you.

His hands finally came around her, running gently along her waist and lower back.

“My love,” she whispered, the words surprising even her as they tumbled effortlessly from her lips. The L word. A word she had never said to anyone. “I’m…I’m sorry we had to do that. I’m sorry it disturbed you so badly.”

“But it worked,” he said again, with a small, relieved laugh.

His head turned slightly, his lips coming tantalizingly within range of her own. Her hand found its way to his jaw and she felt a deep aching to feel his lips against hers, to feel a reassurance that he was still there with her.

She heard him take a deep, shaky breath.

“I need to tell you something Selise,” he whispered, pulling his head away from her and stepping toward the fireplace. She reeled at the sudden gulf left around her in his absence.

“Sit,” he said gesturing to one of the chairs.

He placed the black kettle on the hook that hung over the fire, and began to prepare two mugs for tea. Selise settled herself into the chair, running her eyes over the stack of books and papers that were cluttering up his table, feeling the firing up of her nerves again.

“Actually, let me ask you first. What do you know of the Seeker? Cassandra?”

“The Seeker? Almost nothing, really.” Selise answered, surprised at the question. The Seeker was often away from Skyhold, accompanying the Inquisitor. Selise had admired from afar the obvious strength and power of the woman, but had never had the opportunity to be introduced to her.

“Do you…. know where her quarters are?”

“I think they are above the armory. But I am not certain,” she answered.

“She has something. Something very important, and I need to find it,” he said as he seated himself in the chair beside her. “But once I do, I will not be able to stay in Skyhold.”

Selise pondered the implications of his words. This must have been the plan, the reason he allowed himself to be captured and brought here.

“What is this thing?” she asked.

“It is a book. An old book that contains all the knowledge of the Seekers. I have it on good authority that it confirms that the rite of Tranquility can be reversed.”

“Do you really need to take it? Can you not just read it and put it back? Or copy the important bits down?”

Anders looked at her pensively. “I had not considered doing that before. It would take me having access to the book for a good period of time without being discovered. Maybe with your help it might be possible. But if there is any risk of discovery then I would need to take it and flee.” he said. “I would not be staying either way. Once I have what I need I intend to take it to what is left of the Ferelden Circle.”

“But many of those mages are here, recruited now into the Inquisition,” she said, “And what if the book does not have the information you seek?”

“Not all of them are. Pockets of them still remain in underground strongholds, including a few of the most influential enchanters,” he answered. “And I am certain about this book. I know of other Seeker documents that have existed, which confirmed that someone made Tranquil was restored. But those papers were lost. I can’t let that happen again,” he said. The kettle began to boil, and he rose to finish preparing the tea. Selise watched him absently, her mind running over all possible scenarios. Either she helps him and they stay. She helps him and they run. She doesn’t help him and he leaves without her.

“This morning, Cullen mentioned something about transferring me out of Skyhold,” Anders continued as he placed a mug before her and took his seat. “Combine that with what happened last night, with being so convinced that I was facing Tranquility… That you already had…. it was chilling. Truly terrifying.” He said softly. “It is time that the impermanence of Tranquility is exposed to all, so that no one can ever hold it over our heads again. If this is the final thing that I can do for mages before my life ends then I think I can go out with a little bit of peace.”

“But Anders…” she began, “that can’t be right. They told me they were waiting until the Inquisitor returned to make a decision on transferring you.”

“So you knew about it already?” he asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

“It’s not decided for sure. Or at least it wasn’t when Leliana brought it up to me. I was trying to convince them to keep you here.” She brought the mug of tea to her lips and saw that the liquid surface was rippling with the trembling of her hands.

“Well one way or another, it looks like I am on my way out. I would prefer it be on my own terms,” he said quietly.

“And there is something else.”

Selise’s heart jumped into her throat.

“I am sure you’re aware that I was once a Grey Warden,” he asked, his eyes going dark.

“I might not technically be a Warden anymore, but I do still carry the taint. And I have begun to hear the Calling.”

Selise gasped a sharp intake of breath. “The Calling?” Everyone knew about the calling. Once it began it would just get stronger and stronger until it drove him mad or he killed himself first.

“My time is increasingly limited Selise. As much as I would love to stay here with you in Skyhold forever, I just can’t. The Inquisition clearly doesn’t want me here any more, now that I have told them all that I can. They will find a way to move me out. You know they will. And then what? I can’t let this opportunity to get this book slip through my fingers. It’s too important.” He trained a deep, pleading gaze on her. “Think of what this would mean for mages. For you and me. Once this war is over they might try to reform the Circles. We have an opportunity to make sure that things can never go back to the way they were.”

Selise nodded. She could think of no other arguments. He reached across the table and grasped her hand.

“I need your help Selise. I need you,” he picked up her hand and brought it to his lips. “Stay with me, _my love._ ”

Her was looking at her warmly now. He had noticed what she’d said before.

“Anders,” she breathed as she rose from her chair to rush to him, seating herself on his lap and clutching his face, bringing it into hers and pressing kisses all over it. “Of course I will” she said and she felt his warm mouth meet hers for a deep kiss. “There was never any question about that,” she whispered. The sense of relief at feeling his lips on hers again was almost overwhelming. She wrapped herself around him and clung to the solidity of his body, trying to stay above the undertow of anxiety that had begun to course through her. But despite his words, despite the warmth in his eyes, she’d felt the hesitation in his kiss. She pulled away and looked at him with concern.

“Shall we find Cole? He may be able to help you…deal with the memory of the nightmares from last night,” she asked.

“No. I want to remember it. The fear I felt… is helpful… a reminder not to become too complacent,” he said. “But I won’t lie to you Selise, I haven’t been able to scrub some of the images from my mind. Of you in particular. I know it’s still so soon, but I am going to need some more time. Please just be patient with me.“

She nodded, rising off his lap to retake her seat and pick up her mug of tea. His hand reached out for hers and they sat in silence for a few minutes.

Her mind raced, churning with all the new information. They would be leaving Skyhold together. She would officially be abandoning her post, forsaking her commitment to the Nightingale and becoming nothing more than just another wanted apostate. And they were, what, to travel the Frostbacks on foot? That would be a long, cold, brutal journey. And if this book was as important as he said it was, then they would be chased every step of the way.

She noticed again that her hands were trembling, and she had to set down her mug before it began to spill over. She looked up at Anders, who was also staring vacantly into space. It was the calm before the storm, she realized. If he truly felt his time was so limited, if the Inquisition was going to try to transfer him after all, then they had things to do. 


	10. Chapter 10

“A bottle of wine please. Whatever you’ve got,” Selise told Cabot.

“A whole bottle?” Cabot asked as he eyed her. “Where’s your date?”

She have give a slight glare and sighed, “does it really matter?”

“Well, I guess not,” he said gruffly as he slid her a bottle and a glass.

She poured the wine with her head swimming, and realized she probably should have ordered something much stronger than just wine.

She’d spent the last couple hours since leaving Anders walking the full length of the battlements, studying the harsh landscape that surrounded Skyhold and trying to wrap her mind around what it would mean to try to travel those mountains on foot. She’d heard that there was a road that cut through the Frostbacks, created specifically for use by the Inquisition, but she guessed it would probably not be wise to take that route if they were trying to escape notice. The only other option seemed to be to follow the frozen river, to where ever that might lead. She hoped Anders had an idea, or at least a map.

She drank her glass of wine down quickly, eager to feel the calming effect of the alcohol on the waves of anxiety that were storming her body.

Someone sat down beside her, but she didn’t look over, not wanting to encourage conversation. She had come to the tavern instead of taking a bottle back to Anders specifically because she wanted to drink alone. People here rarely talked to her, and it was early enough that it wasn’t particularly busy yet. She supposed she could have gone to her room, but she had already felt stifled in there, especially knowing that Anders was just on the other side of the wall.

The fact that he loomed so large in her mind was a little disquieting to Selise. In so short a time she found herself willing to upend her entire life for him, betray all that she had ever considered important. Yet she felt like she should have been more upset by those developments than she actually was. Maybe it was because she had already spent a good chunk of her life infatuated with the infamous apostate and was still in complete disbelief that he was not only there, but that he desired her. Or maybe it was the fact that he had a good cause, one just as important to her as it was to him, as well as to every mage in Thedas. Or maybe it was the fact that all she needed do was conjure up his face in her mind and she felt herself go weak again, her mind awash in a flood of desire and affection that seemed to cloud her judgment. Either way, his affect on her had come fast and hard, a flash flood sweeping her away from everything she had used to be before.

Is this what love does? Makes people weak?

She considered all the risks she had taken for him, risks she would not even have considered in her pre-Anders life. Disregarding the Nightingale, killing a man in a horrific manner, consorting with dangerous spirits. She figured she was at least partially propelled by the fear of losing him, or of him being hurt. But she’d been feeling a sense of agency as his protector that was both galvanizing and gratifying. She hadn’t felt weak in those moments at all. In fact, she felt stronger than she’d ever been.

She heard a soft, modulated voice ask for an ale and recognized it as the bald elf from the Great Hall. Why he chose to sit next to her when there was a whole bar of empty seats Selise didn’t know, and she felt herself scowl slightly at the intrusion before she filled her glass again.

Four years of being one of the Nightingale’s little birds would soon be gone. She had only lived at Skyhold for several months, surrounded by powerful, impressive, important people, and she was already on her way out. She would not be witnessing the Inquisition’s success against the breach. Would not be walking out into the courtyard and feeling an exciting sense of purpose, an almost daily experience that she would miss greatly. And then there was the fact of stealing from arguably one of the most terrifying warriors she’d ever seen. Selise had no doubt that if it weren’t for her magic, Cassandra would be able to crush her with the flick of a finger.

But, Anders was convinced that there was a cure for Tranquility, and if that was true, mages did need to know. The barbaric, malicious practice had been used as a slaver’s whip, frightening generation after generation of magi into an unjust, cowering subservience for far too long. But as she had pondered the consequences, she realized that she wasn’t entirely sure if knowledge of a cure couldn’t also have the potential to backfire. Perhaps, if after the breach was closed and the Circles and the Order were reformed, knowing there was a cure might actually cause the rite of Tranquility to be used more capriciously than before. And how difficult was applying this cure? That alone could make all the difference in the world. If it was something that could be easily achieved, it would already have been discovered. A cure that was practically impossible to apply was almost as good as there being no cure at all.

But at least Tranquility would cease to be the fate worse than death that most mages considered it, and would provide hope for those who already had loved ones made Tranquil. Her own father had held it over her head so much that she used to have a sort of uneasy peace with the thought of it. But life on her own, since the death of her father, had changed that. Living for a time in the Circle, working for Leliana, and now, beginning to experience what felt like to be falling in love, all made the prospect of having her emotions and magic completely wiped away absolutely unthinkable.

And Maker only knows what other secrets could be in that book. The Seekers had been around since the very first blight, and the knowledge they would have about the abuses of Templars would be unparalleled. The knowledge they might have about a great many things could be utterly world-changing.

 

Another glass emptied, and half the bottle was gone. At least her hands had stopped shaking. She pulled herself out of her thoughts and cast a tentative glance to the body sitting beside her, her gaze meeting the sideways stare of a deep blue eye.

He was clearly observing her, so she figured she might as well acknowledge him. She refilled her glass and then raised it in a quiet greeting before taking another deep gulp.

“Lost in thought at the foot of the stairs, laying barefoot in the grass, drinking alone…” he observed quietly. “You must be in some great distress.”

She gave a quiet laugh. She had at least been hoping to go mostly unseen, even if she knew how unlikely that was. “You must not have much to do,” she said.

“I admit you caught my notice a while ago. But I also believe that it is important for us to see the people around us in times like these, to appreciate who might be helped by our actions, or harmed by inaction. It makes the war more meaningful.”

“Well…. Thanks, I think,” she said. She was finally starting to see a little bit of the fuzz around her vision, and the anxiety that had been streaking through her now seemed somewhat dulled. Perhaps he too was one of Leliana’s little birds, she thought. But if so, it was awfully bold for him to just sit beside her and reveal his interest.

“You are different from the other mages here. Why is there no one that you really speak to?” he asked and then paused, “If you don’t mind my asking.”

Something about the man’s thoughtful, silvery speech was pleasant, and put her slightly at ease despite her hesitation.

“I don’t even know where to begin to answer that,” she said.

“But yet you are compelled to these little revealing actions. Which means you must not exist in total isolation. There must be someone, somewhere with whom you associate. People rarely find such distress in solitude. ”

Selise sighed heavily. What was it that Cole had said about him? That he sees much, even though he wasn’t a seer. She flashed him an annoyed look.

“My apologies, that was a rather personal observation. And we’ve only just met,” said the elf.

“Actually, we haven’t.”

“Right. I am called Solas. Pleased to meet you Selise,” he said genially.

So he already knew her name. Well if he’d noticed so much else about her she figured she shouldn’t be surprised.

“You are wondering why I know your name already. It’s nothing sinister. It was mentioned once by Cullen and I have a good memory for names,” he continued.

“Hi Solas,” she said as she emptied her glass again. “I am not at liberty to speak of…” she drifted off. Of what? Of her assignment? Her companion? “…the things you ask.”

“I see. I suppose that is revealing enough. We shall speak of something else then, unless you prefer that I leave you in peace.”

She couldn’t deny that she had her own curiosity about the man. From the moment she had first saw him she had an instinct that, despite his obvious knowledge, there was still more below the surface than she could really understand.

“It’s fine I guess,” she said as she rubbed her eyes. She was close to the sweet spot of tipsiness, the point where she would cease to care entirely about all the things that troubled her. She poured herself another glass of wine, the bottle almost finished.

“The veil is strange around you, Selise. It… bubbles. And sometimes you leave a tear in it when you pass by,” he said, sounding fascinated, “and today it is particularly disturbed.”

“You can see the veil that easily?” she asked, her interest piqued.

“I can sense it,” he said simply.

She turned her head to look at him straight on. His face, like his voice, was pleasant and thoughtful, yet there was something more there that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Feeling emboldened by the wine, she openly studied his features, trying to place what it was that was so striking. He had a small pockmark on his forehead, as well as full, sensual lips and eyes that were piercing through her, but not aggressively. She particularly liked the way the bridge of his nose swelled a bit. Wide nose bridges were a common feature on elves, but his was less dramatic, more subtle and graceful. It almost gave him the look of an animal.

“You must be gifted beyond that of most mages,” she observed.

“Perhaps. You must be as well,” he answered.

“Barely,” she answered. “What I can do is far less impressive than most. It is just… uncommon.”

“Is that not valuable on its own?” he asked, “And besides, I suspect you have yet to tap the true power of your potential.”

Selise shrugged.

“Do you not want to?”

“As a friend recently pointed out to me, my magic is often very cruel. It has already hurt enough people as it is,” she said, looking back down into her glass of wine. She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to block out the memories of those who had suffered at her hands. Whether by her father’s direction or not, it was still she who cast the spells. Even in her attempts to help, she ended up harming people.

“Your regret only shows that this power has fallen into the right hands. It is best wielded by someone with a strong conscience,” he said. “Perhaps I can help you, now that we are acquainted.”

“You want to help me?” she asked, surprised again.

“If you would like,” he said, tilting his head, “I confess I would also like to learn a little bit more about the effect you have on the Veil. We could help each other.”

Selise was speechless for a moment… if only she wasn’t about to leave Skyhold. But Anders had given no indication as to when exactly he wanted to leave.

“I would love to, but…” she began, and then bit her tongue. She took a breath. “Sure. If you think you can help.”

“Excellent. I will find you again soon. You don’t have to wait around,” he said as he gave her a polite nod and silently slipped out of his seat. “Until then Selise,” he said quietly over his shoulder. Selise noticed that his flagon of ale he had ordered was still almost entirely full.

Unlike her bottle of wine. She drained the last of it into her glass and then called for Cabot to bring her two more bottles.

He crossed his arms and looked at her unhappily.

“They are to take back to the hall, and to share with friends,” she told him as she slid several sovereigns across the bar, feeling irritated. She didn’t need him telling her how much she could drink.

“Very well. I just didn’t want to have to carry you back to your quarters after you passed out at my bar,” he explained.

“Thanks, but I can take care of myself,” she told him. She wondered if he had ever said that to any of the men who ordered large amounts of liquor.

He shrugged and passed her the wine as she stood to walk back to the Great Hall. The elf had always given her a strange feeling, but she walked away from the tavern feeling strangely optimistic. She had turned herself into the Circle originally so that she could learn to control her magic better, but found that there weren’t many there that had extensive knowledge of Entropy. She’d learned the basics, gotten a good handle on most of her spells and made some important, knowledgeable contacts, but she couldn’t claim to be a Master of her magic. And if she and Anders were going to have the best possible chance of getting to the remains of the Denerim Circle, then she would need to make sure she was a proficient as possible

She sighed. If only she could convince Anders to stay for a little while longer so she could see what Solas had in store. Maybe she could, she thought.

Her short walk back to the Great Hall was an unexpectedly pleasant one. There was a nice breeze and the air was filled with the cheery peals of birdsong. The people attending to their business in the courtyard were all in good spirits and she definitely felt better than she had when she walked into the tavern, whether from the wine or Solas though was unclear. Probably both, she figured. She stopped in the center of the courtyard for a moment to enjoy the sunshine, mindful again that her time there was limited. Despite the warm rays that cut through the cool breeze, she shivered a little at the thought of traveling through the Frostbacks. When she originally arrived in Skyhold, it was via a caravan of wagons holding numerous other mages. She was able to doze and read for much of the journey, and all the bodies inside the wagon helped everyone stay warm. But soon she would be living outside of the protective magic of Skyhold, exposed to the icy cold of the mountains. She sighed and continued back into the Great Hall.

Anders was still sitting in his room, but had the door cracked open. She paused in front of his door, wondering whether she should enter. She looked wistfully at the back of his head, at the golden blond hair that hung in loose, silky strands over the top of his shoulders, and had a flash of a memory of that hair splayed over a pillow as their naked bodies writhed together. She wished more than anything she could erase whatever he had seen in that dream from his mind. But clearly she would just have to settle for giving him time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once the sun had gone down, Anders had gotten curious about Selise’s whereabouts and came upon her asleep at her table, her cheek resting on the page of an open book. It had been dark for a few hours, and he had gone to the stairwell to put his ear to the door and listen for the rumble of activity, hearing almost none.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a gentle shake. Even if she didn’t want to take him up to the garden now, surely she didn’t want to sleep all night at the table.

An open, mostly full bottle of wine sat next to a half full glass. Anders picked up the glass and took a drink.

“We’re not leaving now are we?” she asked, her voice but a rasp as she sat upright.

“What? No, of course not.” Anders said gently, “It should be soon I think, but not tonight.” Cullen hadn’t given a time line for his possible transfer other than “soon”, but Anders didn’t want to wait too long. He had been able to get Cullen to mention that the Seeker was out traveling along with the Inquisitor, Hawke and Varric in the Western Approach, and wanted to be long gone by the time they all returned. Even if that meant not getting to see Hawke again, at least not until after she was finished with whatever she was helping the Inquisition with. Hopefully the Seeker hadn’t been foolish enough to take the book along with her. That seemed to be too obviously bad a move for him to bother worrying about it.

“Okay, good,” she breathed.

“I’m sorry to wake you, but I was wondering, would you mind taking me up to the garden?”Anders asked. “Whenever you’re up for it. I can wait.”

Selise rubbed her eyes. “Yes. Sure,” she said as she looked toward the window.

Anders sat himself down in the chair and covered her hand with his own. “It would be good to have a supply of herbs to bring along, just in case we find ourselves in need.”

“Of course. Just give me a minute to wake up,” she said.

Her hair was down, a rare occurrence. The full black locks draped down her back and Anders couldn’t help himself, reaching out his free hand and running his fingers down a shiny strand. She seemed to shiver a little, though if that’s what the little tremor was she covered it up by shifting in her seat and leaning forward.

“Would you like a glass?” she asked, gesturing to the wine.

“I’d love some,” he said. She topped off her own glass and filled another, pushing it toward him.

The book she’d been been sleeping on was open to a page of maps. She drank deeply from her glass of wine, her eyelids lined in pink. Despite how she clutched his hand, she seemed to be trying not to meet his eyes.

“Is that a map that of the Frostbacks?” he asked nodding toward the book.

“It is. I might be a little… nervous. Just how detailed is your plan? Have you already figured out a route through the mountains? “

“We’ll follow the river most of the way. It will be long and cold, but we’ll get through it,” Anders said as he caressed her hand.

“Don’t worry love, I have spent a good deal of time in the mountains over the past few years. Right after Kirkwall I spent several months deep in the Vimmarks. It won’t be easy, or fun. But we’ll be together,” he said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. He was still a little bit in shock that she had agreed to come with him so quickly. He’d thought the chances good that she’d decline completely. He’d felt much calmer, much more optimistic about his chances knowing that he would have her aid, and her company. And also quaked inwardly with the fear that she might change her mind. If she decided to stay, would he be able to leave her behind? It was unthinkable to him to be separated from her entirely, so soon. But he also felt a deep pang of regret, knowing he would taking her away from everything she knew.

As the day had progressed, the memory of the dream had begun to lose its sharpness, fading into softer, more distant scenes and pictures. He found himself wondering throughout the day what she was out doing, why she was staying away from him for so long. Despite the fear that the dream had struck in his heart, whenever he considered the possibility of her out somewhere, conspiring to complicate his plans, the idea just seemed to ring false and he gratefully let go of the notion. She had given him no real reason to doubt her, and every reason to believe. But she had left him alone for most of the day since their talk that morning. She just needed to process their conversation, he figured. Or she was giving him space.

By the time the sun had begun to descend and darken the sky, the dream of the night before had been relegated almost completely to the back of his mind, and he found that he was itching to see her again, longing to hear her voice and feel the caress of her fingers. When finally he tiptoed out of his own room with a lantern to conduct a little search, he discovered that she had been in her own room the whole time, apparently having slipped past him at some point without his noticing.

Anders felt a rush of tenderness as he watched Selise blinking the sleep out of her eyes and fidgeting in her chair, clearly nervous and looking paler than usual. The pink around her eyes seemed only to enhance the silver grey of her clear irises, and almost matched the the pink of her lips. But despite that, she retained a straight posture and a surety of movement that quietly belied her inner strength. The longer he sat and looked at her, the more overcome with awe and admiration he felt.

He pulled on her hand, urging her out of her chair and toward him, feeling an intense need to close the distance between them.

“You are so beautiful,” he said as she rose from her chair. He didn’t even know he was going to say the words until he heard himself say them.

“What?” she asked, her surprised eyes finally meeting his as a flush of red begin to creep up her cheeks.

“I am a lucky man, to have someone like you by my side, and willing to do so much for me. Please know that even if I haven’t said it yet, I truly am immensely grateful,” He could tell she was pressing down a small smile, and her body relaxed and softened as he pulled her down into his lap, enclosing her in his arms. “The maker has blessed me beyond what I deserve,” he said and he nuzzled his face into her neck, breathing in her clean, rainy day scent. She exhaled a deep breath and rest her head back against his shoulder. The softness of her smooth skin and fragrant hair, and the way she fit so perfectly into him, made the rest of the world fall away and he closed his eyes, letting time pause for a moment. He pressed her against his aching chest, trying to feel her heartbeat along with his own.

After several moments passed, she begin to fidget again, her thighs shifting in his lap. Mostly it only made him think of other things he could be doing with her thighs.

“Let’s go to the garden then, so we can hurry back here,” she said, almost breathlessly. Before he could protest, she was up and was now the one pulling on his hand. He rose from his seat and was tempted to pick her up and throw her down onto the bed, but she was urging him enthusiastically toward the door. 

“Wait!” he said and broke free, heading behind him back toward the table. He threw back the remains of his glass of wine and then grabbed the open bottle to bring along. She gave an approving smile and he clasped her hand again, trailing behind her through the hall and across the main room.

 

It was cool in the garden, cooler than any other evening since he’d arrived. But it was still refreshing, the thick green scent of herbs feeling comforting and familiar. There was a silvery crescent moon, and he noticed a few freshly dug flower beds in a corner. The covered walkway surrounded the full perimeter of the gardens, and contained many corners hidden deep in shadow into which he could barely see. Someone could easily hide in there he noticed, but saw no movement within the shadows. He stood contentedly and considered where to begin. He’d hoped to spend more time up here, but other matters seemed to have gotten in the way.

He took a deep drag off the wine bottle and turned to hand it to Selise. Her eyes glinted darkly as she took it from him, her wavy hair still unleashed and flowing wildly down her back. He watched her for a moment, admiring her curvy silhouette and the sharp, delicate angles of her profile. The darkness seemed to enhance her womanly figure, and he felt the breath leave him as he studied all the details of her graceful form. She was tall and lithe, nicely muscled but still curved in all the right ways. She looked healthy and was certainly no waif. In many places on her body he could grip a solid handful of milky flesh, a fact that he found absolutely delicious and sexy. Hawke had always been so hard, wiry and strong with toned muscles and sharp angles that barely yielded under his touch. But Selise was softer, and it was so easy to find a grip on her her during their lovemaking. His hands ached to be filled with her flesh, feeling as hungry as any other part of his body. She seemed to fit up against him as though the maker himself had made her just for him. He recalled places on her womanly figure that bounced tantalizingly for him on the few occasions their lovemaking had gotten particularly impassioned, and just imagining it made him begin to grow hard. Feeling an intense desire creeping over him, he took two long strides toward her, and in seconds was hovering just inches from her mouth again, ready to take it with his own.

“I… I seem to have forgotten why we came here,” he breathed, and he pressed his mouth to hers, sliding one hand around her waist and the other under her jaw, pulling her to him.

Her soft lips eagerly welcomed his, parting with a relieved exhalation, and he channeled all his desire, every erotic thought that had flitted into his head into his kiss. Her body fell against him, the soft mounds of her breasts pressing into his chest, the curve of her waist drawing his hand down to her round buttocks. Her breath came sharply through her nose as he pressed his hardness against her. She opened her hips and he grinded into them, beginning to ache, straining against the confines of his breeches.

But she raised her hands against his chest and gave a gentle push. He obeyed, but stayed close, feeling his breath coming short, desperate for his body to be rejoined with hers.

“You said you wanted some herbs,” she said, her chest also heaving. He could feel that she wanted him just as desperately, but she kept her hands to his chest.

“That can’t be right,” he said as he nipped at her jaw. “Are you sure we didn’t come up here so I could make love to you under the stars?”

Her elbows bent and he fell toward her again, his mouth finding her neck and sucking at it, covering it with open mouthed kisses. Maker, he thought, if he could put every inch of her in his mouth, he would do it, right then and there.

“Someone will see us. There are soldiers about… And actually someone else is going to be coming,” she said between pants of breath, “and soon.” He ran a hand up to close over her breast as he dipped his tongue into the hollow above her collarbones. He felt her knees go loose, her body sinking slightly, pressing deeper into him as he tightened his arm around her waist. His arousal grew into desperation. It had been a full day and night since he’d had a taste of her body, and suddenly it was the only thing he was able to think about.

“Let them see. Let the whole world see, I don’t care,” he said, taking her mouth in another deep kiss. She let out a little whimper as his tongue slid over hers. And then her hands were pushing again.

“Anders, just hurry so we can get back to the room,” she said again. He supposed it wasn’t unsurprising that she was nervous at getting too hot and heavy out where they could be discovered, considering she was still relatively new to sex in the first place. He let himself be pushed away, his body stinging with arousal, with the need for more of her touch.

He took a moment to try to calm himself, to steady his breathing and adjust his breeches into a more comfortable position. The fact that he was wearing breeches under his robe at all now revealed itself to be a very poor decision.

He took the bottle of wine and emptied half of it, hoping it would help his body to relax.

And then he blinked the rush out of blood out of his eyes and tried to focus. Herbs. Yes. There were several that he wanted to have on hand. The typical supply for a healing potion, as well as an anti-venom and one to increase frost resistance. That one in particular he wanted to have in abundance, just in case. The cold of the mountains could be very cruel. He sighed, wading through mental images of bare skin as he looked around.

He reluctantly walked away from her and traversed the length of the garden yard, taking deep, calming breaths and trying to locate the items that he needed as quickly as he could. It was difficult to discern what was what in the darkness, but he couldn’t help noting again that many of the plants were not paired well together. Perhaps if there was time for one more visit before they departed, he would fix that.

He broke stalks from the herbs that he needed and conjured up his healing, which surrounded his fingers in a golden corona of light. He repaired the plants in the places he’d severed them, and restored health to others that were wilted or hadn’t been given the proper care. It was such a shame to have such an admirable variety of herbs, he thought, only to have so many of them struggling.

“We only have a few more minutes before we’ll need to hide,” she warned him, her body going completely still as she watched the pictures in her mind. Under the sliver of moonlight her eyes looked black and glazed, and once she was roused from the vision, she looked over to him, giving him an impatient, lusty stare that resounded down his spine and between his legs.

Anders took deep breath, steeling himself against the demands of his body, and looked around. Wishing it was easier to see, so that he could move more quickly. He conjured up a ball of energy and tried to illuminate the nearest bed of plants, but heard Selise let out a warning hiss at the emergence of the light. He crouched down, trying quickly to get a closer look before extinguishing the light, but before he could pull at the leaf that he needed, he felt hand grasp a handful of his coat, yanking him back toward the covered pathway.

“Okay, okay…” he whispered, picking up his own pace toward the direction she was pulling.

He found himself deep within the shadow of a corner of the covered pathway, and as soon as they reached it, he registered the faint musical trill of a whistle. A soldier on patrol was wandering languorously along the battlements just above the stairs that led down into the garden.

Anders stuffed the handful of sharply scented herbs into the pouch at his belt and then became aware once again of Selise’s hands on him. She was frozen into place, focused on listening to the soldier’s movements, and barely seemed to notice when he took a step closer, brushing the length of his body along hers. The shadows almost completely obscured her face, leaving her as only a dark shape within a pool of blackness. But he could feel the warmth radiating off her, the light, delicate breeze of her breath. When he felt a light puff of air over his lips, he knew her face was close.

The soldier was descending the stairs into the garden, but unless he walked all the way around the perimeter, he wouldn’t come too close to them. Even if he did, Selise had chosen the best spot in the garden to hide. A dark, dead end corner with a thick pillar nearby would obscure them completely from many different angles. Selise’s hands were clutching a different part of his robe, and she pulled him back slightly, until they were both up against the wall. And then her hand found his jaw and he felt the delectable brush of her lips against his. Immediately his body reawakened, the initial arousal only having been slightly dampened in the first place, and he kissed her again, forcefully, his mouth pressing her back into the stone wall behind her. Her other hand snaked around his waist and pulled him in closer, her body warm and strong against his. She breathed a jagged breath into his mouth and kissed him back with an equaled force, before pulling away again to turn an ear toward the courtyard.

“Damn it,” she whispered.

“What?”

“The garden is about to get even more crowded,” she responded quietly.

Anders felt a low, whispery growl escape his throat. More people meant more waiting to get her back down into bed. He shifted his weight, feeling restless with need.

 

A door let out a quiet creak as it opened, and three women streamed into the garden, laughing as though they too had a bit to drink. They wandered clumsily into the clearing, and then over toward the gazebo on the far end.

“Hello ladies,” he heard the soldier say, as he turned and walked toward them, engaging them in inaudible small talk.

Anders sighed. It looked like they might be here for a while, unless Selise decided to break out the magic.

Her hand connected with his chest again, running up the front of his robe and laying just over his heart. He tightened his grip on her waist and pulled her close, his mouth finding hers in the dark. Unable to help himself, he let his hands loose, grabbing and kneading at the softness around her waist, coming up to grasp a breast again. His fingers found the buttons of her robe, and he slowly released them, keeping his mouth on hers and penetrating her deeply with his tongue. Her mouth was warm and tasted like sweet wine, and she sucked lightly on his tongue, pulling back slightly so she could nibble on his lower lip.

Finally his hands found their way inside her robe, curling under the light undershirt and hungrily cupping a generous breast. He groaned quietly and she tensed, covering his mouth with hers again to keep him silent. She stayed still, listening to the others in the courtyard who were only several yards away, but they seemed too engaged in their own conversation to be mindful of any small noises coming from within a deep shadow.

Feeling bold, he unbuttoned the rest of her robe and let it fall open. She had her usual undershirt and leggings on beneath, and despite how she tensed at his noises, she was not stopping the wandering of his hands. Indeed she was moving into his touch, welcoming him in and responding warmly. He slid both his arms into her robe and around the small of her waist, pulling her flush against him, luxuriating in the soft curves of her body, her hips and her stomach. He pushed his face into the hollow of her neck and sucked at the flesh there, feeling her arch beneath him, her hips grinding into his again as she sounded a sharp intake a breath that she was clearly trying to stifle. His hands found the soft handfuls of her buttocks and it was all he could do not to lift her up and rip her leggings right off her her.

But he began to develop a desire for something else first, feeling his mouth water at the prospect of making her squirm. A sharp thrill raced through him as he considered how no matter what he did to her, she would not be able to vocalize without getting them caught. He felt himself smile in anticipation as he pushed her back against the wall and slid a hand down to her leggings. He pressed his palm against the hot mound at the apex of her thighs and felt her quiver. Then he brought his hand back up to squeeze between the band of tight fabric and her bare skin, and then fully down into the warm, wet center between her legs. When he finally reached it, sliding a finger into the wet depths, she tensed again and he could feel her struggling to suppress the cries collecting in her throat. His own body tensed in increasing arousal, and she bucked her hips into his hand as he slid his fingers over the little pearl of nerves nestled within. He raised his other hand to her face, his fingers sliding under the strong curve of her jaw, his thumb finding her lips and resting on them, reminding her that she needed to remain quiet. She opened her mouth and took his thumb in, sliding her tongue over it, sucking gently and making him have to stifle his own moan. He realized he was as aroused as he had ever been, his breeches feeling so tight he might as well have been bound in rope and chains. Each time he felt her suppress a cry, his own hardness only increased, and he began to feel like he might be brought to orgasm without any additional assistance.

He pulled his hand away from her legs, and she let out the tiniest whimper in response. He tugged at her leggings, sliding them down her thighs to expose her to the night air. Giving her one last penetrating kiss on the mouth, he pulled away completely and let her linger, her body plastered against the cold stone wall. He could see as much as feel her heaving chest, and her body trembling with the same need that was rocking through him. The women behind them laughed enthusiastically, and he distantly recognized that they were flirting with the soldier, who seemed to be enjoying the attentions.

But Anders could barely care anymore about the possibility of spectators. He was relishing the deliciousness of the moment there with her, smiling to himself at the irresistible tension between them, at the way she responded so powerfully to his touch. He was aching to see her squirm some more and he slid down to his knees, finding her bare thighs with his hands. He nuzzled into her legs, inhaling the intoxicating scent of aroused female, and pressed his mouth into her, finding that little nerve center with the tip of his tongue and pressing into it, moving in solid, circular motions. Her knees almost buckled at the contact and she slid slightly down the wall as her breath came in jagged rasps. With one hand he reached up, trying to again to find her lips to remind her to be quiet, but getting waylaid by the softness of her heaving breaths.

As he worked on her, he felt her muscles contracting, trying to thrash about in response to the movement of his tongue, choked gasps and sobs just barely coming from her throat. He was sucking forcefully, enjoying the musky taste of her, and feeling his own body throb in response to her quaking when he felt her hands pulling him back upright, clutching his jaw and running through his hair, urging his face to come back up to hers.

He obeyed, bring himself back to a stand, and he soaked for a moment in the taste of her that remained on his lips, in the frenzied, lusty energy that was radiating from her body. Her hands found the clasps of his breeches and within seconds she was tightly gripping his bare length sending shock waves of need up his spine. She kept her grip tight and pulled him between her legs, frantically urging him to enter her. He let go of all restraint and claimed her mouth forcefully at the same time that he plunged into her welcoming, tight heat. His own cries were struggling to escape his throat at the wash of exquisite sensations that flooded through him, energizing his muscles and inciting his thrusts to quicken, pounding as furiously as he dared while still trying to stay quiet. She mashed her mouth into his even harder at the first whimper that escaped his throat, biting down onto his lip and bringing him back into focus with a sharp sting of pain, but it only barely cut through the overwhelming rush of intense pleasure that was building into a giant wave. He realized as her hands clawed hard into his back that she was right there with him, and they arched together, bodies grinding as forcefully together as they were both inundated with the sweet, quaking release of orgasm. She panted into his mouth, squeezing down cries of ecstasy that collected in choked sobs at the base of her throat, and he throbbed inside her, pressed as deeply into her as he could manage, letting the last of the orgasmic waves wash over him and fill her up with his seed.

As they were descending from the wave of sensation, he noticed that the gardens were eerily quiet. He tried to listen over the pounding of his own heart for the sounds of the people who had been there behind them, but didn’t have the handle on his senses yet to know for sure what was happening.

Selise still held him tightly, her forehead down and resting against his cheek as she gasped for air, trying to restore her body’s equilibrium.

In what could have been seconds or minutes, he finally heard the rustling of movement of people behind him, but it remained slightly distant and was followed by another distracted giggle. He relaxed back down into Selise’s arms, their bodies still joined and pulsing, but finally beginning to calm. If the people had heard them, they didn’t seem concerned enough to go exploring or looking for the source. And even if they knew exactly what was happening, Anders couldn’t quite summon the energy to care.

He caressed her cheek and inhaled deeply, giving a quiet, giddy laugh. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d experienced something so agonizingly erotic. Probably not since those days of sexual discovery in the Circle, when every one was coupling off and stealing a rushed few minutes away from Templars, squeezing into corners and exploring each other's bodies. He shivered, feeling an electric thrill rush through him. Her face came up to his again, and as he bent down to brush another light kiss against her, he felt that her lips were curled up into a wide, satisfied smile. 


	11. Chapter 11

Anders was gone. Selise stood frozen in place once she realized that it was true, that it wasn’t just one of her fears playing out in her imagination. She cast her eyes about his room, looking for anything that might be out of place. He wasn’t in the kitchen, washroom or library. He wasn’t in her room, or anywhere else on the lower floor. She had left him just a few hours ago to go scouting around Skyhold in search of Cassandra’s quarters, but had not found anything useful. All the places she thought to look revealed nothing. Just a bunch of empty rooms and lofts filled with tables. She was convinced that the Seeker might live in one of the floors above the armory, but had found nothing other than a bedroll spread out on the bare floor in the uppermost balcony. Only a small stack of books accompanied it, and none of them were the book that Anders sought. As she had crept from door to door within the wooden buildings and along the stone walls, keeping her back straight and her expression casual so as not to arouse suspicion, it occurred to her that if Skyhold had a vault of any kind for valuables, that is most likely where they should be looking.

She’d rushed back with a plate of hot ham and porridge from the kitchen for the two of them, hoping to just relax and continue with the planning of the upcoming escape, but instead she found herself with heart racing, running through every possibility for his disappearance. She didn’t believe that he had picked up and left her behind, especially mere hours after she’d kissed him goodbye. He'd been lounging about in a loose pair of breeches sipping his tea and making a list of items to gather for their journey. She especially didn’t think he would try to run in the middle of the day, without the cover of darkness at the very least. Had Leliana come to fetch him for some meeting? Had someone else discovered their little nook on the lower floor and come to take him hostage, for some sort of retribution? There were a number of mages living in Skyhold who had resented Anders deeply for making them fugitives over the past several years. Perhaps some of them had seen him somehow, and had found him?

Whatever it was, her sight had not alerted her to any danger. She'd been noticing that her sight seemed to be failing her more and more when it came to Anders, and had begun to wonder if it was the growing emotions he brought out in her that had been clouding up the works. It had been the same with her father. She could never see what he was going to do. Perhaps this was the price for getting so close to someone; her inner eye closed to things that immediately involved them, leaving her flailing in the dark just like everyone else. If only she had someone to talk to about clairvoyance, to reassure her about the subtleties and quirks. If only she’d had more time with her mother, then she wouldn't be so caught off guard when she did things that affected her gift so much. But now was not the time to dwell on that, she realized.

Her stomach heaved. Going to Leliana would mean admitting that she had lost track of her charge. But if Leliana had Anders, then she already knew anyway. And it was never forbidden for her to leave him alone, to go out and do her own thing by herself. If that were the case, she would never have been able to attend meetings, or fetch supplies, or food. No, the fact that she hadn’t been there shouldn’t automatically be something to worry about, which was only the smallest possible comfort within Selise's maelstrom of panic.

She dropped the bowls of porridge on the table and turn to dash back toward the stairs. Wherever he was, it was not on the lower floor. As she emerged back into the Great Hall and looked around wildly, she noticed the low roar of murmurs, more noticeable than usual because of the sheer number of bodies in the room. The grey, overcast day threatened rain, so instead of mill about in the courtyard most of the residents were congregating inside, trying to avoid the coming storm. She turned her head to a girl standing nearby. It was a youngish elf with yellowy blond hair who was whispering excitedly to an older woman.

“Excuse me, is something happening?” Selise asked the young girl. The elf flashed luminous green eyes at her and paused a moment, seemingly stunned at Selise’s attention.

“The Inquisitor has returned. And rumors are that she has banished the Grey Wardens from southern Thedas,” the girl said.

“What? Banished? Could that be right?” she asked, but didn’t wait for an answer before she found her feet carrying her away from the girl. The Grey Wardens were heroes... what could they possibly have done to warrant banishment?

Selise’s heart jumped into her throat and she forced herself to remain calm as she weaved through the crowd between the stairwell and the door to Solas’ office. Solas gave her a polite nod as she rushed through his room, and as she took the stairs two at a time she tried to remind herself that technically, Anders was no longer a Grey Warden. He’d said they ousted him because they did not want an abomination within their ranks, and he was not particularly sad to have parted ways. But he still carried the taint. They’d had a conversation about it just the night before, as they lay in bed shortly after returning from the garden.

 

“What does the Calling sound like?” Selise had asked as her face rested comfortably in the hollow of his shoulder.

“Well,” he began, “I can only hear it when things are completely silent… and then it’s like... a chorus of whispers, singing something that I can’t quite make out the words to. It’s sort of beautiful, but very eerie. Sometimes I forget about it and then the world goes quiet just long enough for the sound to trickle in and it makes my hair stand on end. ”

“Wow. That must be strange. And once the Calling begins, how long do you have?”

“I honestly don’t know for sure. There are supposed to be nightmares too, but I always have those anyway. It gets worse and worse until you can’t take it anymore, but I don’t know much beyond that. I wasn’t with the Grey Wardens long enough to get all these kinds of questions answered. Not the brightest move in hindsight,” he said.

Selise sighed. Between the spirit possession and the Calling, that Anders’ life would end in madness of one sort or another was practically guaranteed. The thought had made her feel desperate, their time together so _finite._

“It’s not fair. We’ve only just found each other. I can’t stand the thought of not having much time with you.”

“You and me both sweetheart,” answered Anders sadly as he tightened his arms around her. “We’ll just have to make the most of the time we have. Nothing is set in stone, other than the fact that I will die. But we all will. No avoiding that.”

 

She had jumped fully on top of him then, lacing her fingers into his and holding his hands back against the bed so that their faces hovered only inches from each other in the dark. She’d felt suddenly consumed by a restless combination of fear and desire and a need to voice the collection of thoughts and feelings that had been building up inside her.

“Whatever happens, we will face it together.”

“Damned right,” he said in return. The audible smile in his voice gave Selise an extra burst of courage and she said the words that had been on the tip of her tongue a few times already throughout the evening.

“I…. I love you Anders,” she said. “I don’t ever want to be parted. Ever.”

The silent second that followed stretched on for much longer than she expected it to, her pounding heart skipping a beat as the darkness rang empty with his lack of response. Was it too soon? Should she have waited? They had already been calling each other “my love”… surely this wasn’t completely unexpected?

And then Anders burst forward under her, his mouth finding hers in a vigorous kiss and his hands breaking effortlessly from her grasp. After a motion so fast she barely knew what was happening, she found herself under him on the other side of the bed, being pressed down by the weight of his body onto a jumble of knotted sheets and blankets. His mouth was at her neck, covering her in hot, open mouthed kisses.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he’d said each time he came up for air. She had melted when she heard the words, a song of sheer bliss building up in her chest.

 

No, there was no blighted way that she believed he might have left her of his own accord so soon after that. He had no reason to fake that with her. And she _felt_ it. It was real. He loved her, and she loved him. There simply was no way he had left without her. She was sure of it.

She reached the uppermost floor with hot cheeks and burning lungs, and had to pause for a moment to collect herself and catch her breath. But there was no one there. Wherever Leliana was, she wasn’t in her office.

Selise opened her mind’s eye, trying to call to Anders’ energy. She could still tap into his emotions, though realized they had often been so close to her own that she could barely distinguish what belonged to whom, and generally she had to be in close proximity to him to feel it. She quieted her mind and listened, but nothing came.

She raced back down the stairs, Solas giving her a quiet raised eyebrow as she swept back through his office again and found herself standing in the Great Hall. Where else could they be?

Of course. Selise knew exactly where they were.

Selise tiptoed to the doorway that led to the Ambassador’s office, as just beyond that was the infamous War Room that only the inner members of the Inquisition visited. Selise opened the door, using the same affected nonchalance as had gotten her around all morning, walking through the doorway as though she owned it. When several eyes watched her curiously, she pushed a small wave of disorientation toward them, hearing the murmur of voices quiet as everyone’s eyes went dark. It was not a smart move, using the spell on only a small group of people within a larger group. It would surely be noticed, commented upon. But Selise had to do something.

The Ambassador’s office was empty, just as she suspected it would be. All the advisers would all be in the meeting with the Inquisitor as they always were. Aside from all the traveling, when the Inquisitor was there then the group of them moved and operated like a single unit. She made her way through the spacious room and opened up the door to the longer corridor just behind the office. She had only been in there the one time, the time Fiona had brought her back to officially meet Anders, and knew that there was no telling how long they would be in the meeting. The Inquisitor and the advisers were known to spend hours pouring over the large table that served as a map, maneuvering iron pieces as they marked battles, planned out strategies and discussed alliances.

She moved toward the towering wooden doors, her steps getting more and more tentative as the crumbling hall seemed to stretch on forever. When she finally got close, she was able to hear the low rumble of multiple muffled voices, some of which contained the spiking intonations of anger and insistence.

She opened herself up to the energy within the room. 

And he was there. But he was afraid. Very afraid.

Selise felt a cold rush of fear cascade through her and she turned quickly, making her way back to the Ambassador’s office.

It was likely then that they would be moving Anders out, and with the foul weather moving in they would want to do it quickly. But it seemed entirely too hasty for them to cast him out within hours of the Inquisitor’s return. Surely she had other things to attend to as well, matters more pressing than arranging transport for a former Grey Warden. And what about the Grey Warden that was a part of their very party? Selise had seen him before, a thick, dark man with a jet black beard. Would he be moving out too?

But if they were that worried about Anders, for whatever reason the Grey Wardens have given them, then at the very least he would be kept in the dungeon over night.

And that would be easy. Selise could get him out of there without a second thought.

But they would still need the book.

She again searched around the expansive office. The wall behind the desk was lined in overstuffed bookshelves, and the desk itself was kept neat and tidy. Figuring it couldn’t hurt, Selise approached and read through all the titles of the books on the shelf as quickly as she could. If Cassandra was going to be out of town, perhaps she left the book in the hand of a trusted friend. And what better place to hide a book than right out in the open, amongst hundreds of others? She rushed forward and ran her eyes frantically over the multicolored collection. Titles she recognized were easy to dismiss, but there were a number of blank spines, and beyond knowing that the book belonged to the Seekers, she wasn’t sure what else she should be looking for. The book probably held the Seeker symbol at the very least, she figured. But there was no sign of that that she could see. Probably on the front cover? She began pulling out the blank spined books, glancing hurriedly for the symbol and disappointedly replacing every one back onto the shelf.

She sighed, feeling her hands tremble. The Inquisition could escort Anders back through at any moment. Chances were good that she would know when they were coming, but since Anders was involved she couldn’t completely count on it.

Selise worked her way through the last of the unmarked books, and then sighed again, feeling her breath coming short, then turned back toward the exit.

That hadn’t worked, so instead she would need to locate Skyhold’s vault. And quickly.

A thought struck her, stopping her in her tracks. She returned to stand in front of the bookshelf to study it one final time. It was an awfully large shelf, built only partially into the wall, and some of the tomes had seemed slightly out of place for an Ambassador’s office. Again she ran her eyes across the multitudes of spines, looking for something that didn't seem right. She concentrated along the edges, until she found a silver grey book that stood out slightly. Something about it was drawing her to it.

“Noble Families of the Blessed Age” is what the spine read, but the faded edges adorning the book cover seemed artificial. Selise tried to pull the book out, but it didn’t budge. It felt strange, too solid and sharp, and instead of trying to pull again, she gave it a little push. From deep behind the shelf came a deep, metallic clunk and a section of the shelf began to loosen, moving incrementally outward.

She felt a rush of relief. Please let this be it, please let this be it, she begged the Maker.

Selise helped the door open, but it was made of heavy, thick wood that carried the weight of all the books within it and it moved very slowly. When finally it opened enough for her to peek inside, she found herself looking at several old dusty stacks of books, plus scrolls and scrolls of weathered paper. There was a box that looked like it probably contained jewelry, and several large coin purses.

Selise grabbed the smallest coin purse and then pulled each tome out to inspect it for the mark of the Seeker. The book in question was second from the top. It was a very thick book with a red cover held closed with a metal clasp.

Selise’s heart began to race as she was faced with a decision. Does she take it now and chance the possibility of it being discovered missing before they even have the opportunity to escape? Or should she leave it here, and wait. But what if she returns with Anders in the night and the book is gone? What if the Seeker retrieves it and keeps it with her now that she is back in Skyhold? What if they don’t even plan on holding Anders all night and she rushes along their plan for nothing? There was no way to know for sure. She could only know what her gut was telling her.

With a shudder, Selise grabbed the book. She put the coin purse in her pocket and closed the heavy shelf door.

But how to get the book past all the people in the Great Hall? The thing was massive, and would surely stick out if she tried to hide it under her robe. But what choice did she have?

 

She tried putting it under her robe anyway, but there just wasn’t enough fabric, unless she wanted to waddle back with the thing clenched between her legs while the skirt of her robe fell over top, but even then the thing would probably poke out suspiciously. Looking about the room for another option, she ran back to the book shelf and grabbed two more random books, making a small stack. She would let everyone see that she had simply retrieved a few books from the office. And there was nothing of note about that at all. Hopefully no one would even bat an eye.

 

 

It worked. She dropped the two extra books in the library on the lower floor, and found herself standing in the middle of her own bedroom, holding the giant red tome in both hands. The pages were unevenly cut and yellowed, and Selise felt a deep sense of reverence as she considered what exactly it was she was looking at. The book had been passed from Lord Seeker to Lord Seeker for hundreds of years, and held unimaginable secrets. It might arguably be the most important, valuable thing in all of Skyhold.

There weren’t many good places in her sparsely furnished room to hide things, but with any luck, it wouldn’t be there for long. So she slid it into the bottom drawer of the bureau, covered it up with some clothes and then paced the room.

Until it was dark, until she knew no one would be coming for her, she couldn’t pack any of her things. She couldn’t make any preparations that might tip someone off that she was planning to flee.

She rushed over to Anders’ room, looking for all the pages he had been scribbling on that morning, making lists of supplies, of the route and the plan. She sorted through the mess that cluttered the table, including the now cold bowls of porridge, finding numerous scrolls and many loose leaf pages. Finally she located the ones that held the telltale lists, and quickly she ran her eyes over the items he had written down. There were a number of practical items including thick leather coats and winter gear, wool socks and blankets, a pack of dried foods such as jerky, nuts and beans. She almost smiled at the notice that he included a bottle of whiskey. But it was a good inclusion. It would warm them during the cold nights, not that she intended on letting either of them get cold if she could help it. Bandages, draughts of potions, his herb collection, bedrolls, a small tent. Many of these things could probably be found in the soldier supply room, which was at the base of one of the towers next to the gate.

She foresaw the use of lots of her magic. If things went the way she was imagining they might, she would be putting a great many people to sleep as they gathered what they needed and made their escape. She would need to have several vials of lyrium on hand, just to be sure she didn’t find her magic running dry when she needed it.

 

She committed what she could to memory, and then tossed the incriminating pages onto the glowing coals in the fireplace. And then she made her way back into her room, trying to think of the best course of action from there.

She had no idea how long Anders and the Inquisition might be shut away. She might be completely alone for the rest of the night, left waiting and wondering. Would it be strange if she wasn’t up there, waiting to see what became of her charge? Surely Leliana would expect her to come looking for him, even if only to cover her own butt.

And the thought of spending the rest of the day pacing her room was simply too agonizing to bear.

 

She barely felt the stairs beneath her feet as she flew back up them for yet another time. But the moment she stepped foot back in the Great Hall, she heard a hush fall over the crowd of people. Feeling a surge of panic, Selise pushed her way toward the doorway to the War Room, and saw the procession of bodies that was having such a noticeable effect on the spectators. The Inquisitor was the first to come into view, her sunkissed faced stern and grave, her hair slightly longer and shaggier than the last time Selise had seen her. Following close behind was Cullen, then Josephine, Leliana, and then the severe scowl of the Seeker. At the rear were two fully armored Templars who were escorting a figure draped in a dark cloak. No one else in the room knew who he was, but even completely obscured by fabric Selise felt her heart jump at the sight of him. Anders’ head hung low, looking guilty, and a wave of whispers rushed through the crowd as everyone speculated on the identity of the person in their custody. Leliana’s eyes caught hers and with a quick motion, gestured for Selise to join her.

She was relieved to at least be acknowledged.

Selise made her way through the irritatingly thick crowd and fell into step beside Leliana, who whispered, “I’m sorry, the Inquisitor could not be persuaded. The Grey Wardens were working on behalf of Corypheus. They were mislead, and clearly too vulnerable to his influence.”

“But he isn’t really a Grey Warden,” Selise whispered in return. “Not anymore.”

“He carries the taint. The decision is made Selise,” Leliana said with a tone that Selise knew not to argue with. She fell silent, biting her tongue as she followed along, knowing that Anders was only steps behind her. 

 

They led her to the dungeon, exactly where she had expected they would go. She stood beside Leliana and tried to keep her face clear of expression as she watched Anders get locked into the very cell that he had been in the night they had lured out Vengeance. Anders’ head finally came up and Selise got a glimpse of his face. His golden skin seemed unnaturally pale, his eyes wide and dark, and when finally they landed over to Selise they were cold and empty. Selise shivered.

“Is there anything he has that he might want to take with him? If so, now’s the time to get it,” Leliana said.

“When will he be leaving?” Selise asked, her heart pounding in her ears.

“In a few hours. The transport is preparing itself now.”

“A few hours!? They won't even wait til morning?” Selise asked, struggling to keep her voice from going shrill. The Inquisitor stood off to the side with her brows furrowed and her arms crossed over her chest. She looked as though she personally blamed Anders for whatever had occurred on her mission.

“The Inquisitor sees no point in waiting. They want to stay ahead of the coming storm, and the journey will take several days as it is.”

“But where are they taking him? Is Fiona going too? She also used to be a Grey Warden.”

“Fiona no longer carries the taint. She will stay.”

Selise heard her own surprise as she inhaled sharply.

“The taint can be… cured?”

“Fiona is the only one that we know of who has been. It has to do with an amulet she was given a long time ago. She is a very unique case, Selise. No one fully understands it.”

Selise fell quiet then, her eyes finding Anders’ gaze again and holding it desperately. She tried to communicate everything she could in her eyes, that she loved him, that she would come for him, that all he needed to do was stay quiet, stay patient, don't lose hope. She wished she could somehow let him know that she had the book. That he had not failed.

 

She clasped her hands together to hide the shaking of her fingers. Her blood was running ice cold, her throat as dry as it had ever been. She felt like even the slightest breeze might knock her over. But she had no room for weakness just then, no matter how debilitating the fear coursing through her veins felt. If they were going to try to move him out in just a few hours, then she would need to be prepared. She would need to collect everything they needed, she would need to free him from the prison and flee, all while the sun shone and people were awake and inhabiting the very rooms she would need to access. There would be no cover of darkness to hide their departure. She would not be able to just keep sleeping people from waking. She might need to show her hand completely.

Selise took a deep breath. There were two Templars among them, but neither of them had even glanced at her. Surely they had already purged Anders of his magic, so if she had any ideas about making a move in that moment, when the most important people in the Inquisition were there in the room with her, she would be entirely on her own. It would give them a bit of a head start to have the Inquisition debilitated, even temporarily. They'd be unable to discover the theft of the book, or react to their escape until after they were gone. How else would she get him out of the dungeon, past the guard?

Dare she? She could put them all to sleep right then, consume the whole room in a cloud of unconsciousness and then grab Anders and fight their way out of Skyhold. At least she could try. There were a dozen people there that she needed to put down, and put down hard. She had never taken on that many at once before. It might be stretching the limit of her abilities. 

But the well of mana from which she drew her power was full and shimmering. Just thinking about it brought the vibration of energy to her fingertips. It had been over a week since she had cast any spell. Even without the help of lyrium, she thought that if she could put every ounce of her mana into it, that it was possible she might be able to conjure up a wave strong enough to knock the whole room out for at least an hour, maybe two.

But how could she do it without putting Anders to sleep as well? Unleashed a rippling wave throughout the whole room would surely effect him.

Selise looked around. She was the one closest to the stairwell that led back up to the courtyard. Everyone else was off to her right, scattered, but still all occupying one half of the room.

But the other prisoner, the one she and Anders had heard snoring that night, he was still there, watching the action through the bars in the cell beside Anders. She could try to focus the blast toward the Inquisition as much as she could, but that second prisoner would likely stay unaffected just like Anders. He would bear witness to everything she did, and there probably wouldn’t be anything left to use on him once everyone else was down.

The dungeon guard finished locking Anders' cell and then stood speaking to the Inquisitor for a moment in low, inaudible tones. Selise’s heart began to race. If she was going to act then, if she was truly considering a magical attack on the Inquisition, she would need to do it soon.

She saw the Inquisitor nod to the rest of the advisers and then begin her first steps toward Selise, toward the stairwell that led to the door.

Selise reached down into the very bottom of her mana, gathering it all up into her, shaping it into a narrow blast. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

 

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

Something hit Selise in the head, hard. She lay still for a moment, waiting for any following blows to rain down upon her, but they didn’t come. She blinked the stars out of her eyes and tried to breathe away the aching in her ribs as her head pounded from the impact. Slowly she crawled out of the mental fog and into the dark silence around her. She hadn’t been attacked, but she was on the cold stone floor, the force of her spell having thrown her off her feet

“Selise!?” came the urgent hiss of Anders’ voice.

She lifted her throbbing head, remembering in a panic where she was and what she was doing. The members of the Inquisition, plus the guard and Templars, were all scattered around the dungeon floor, eyes closed and breathing the deep rhythmic breaths of sleep. Selise scrambled slowly to her feet, her vision swimming in front of her eyes. Her body felt heavy, sluggish, completely drained. She staggered over to the prostrate guard and unlinked the keys from her belt. She approached Anders cell and was brought fully back into herself when she locked onto his wide, reddish brown eyes. He looked concerned, his eyebrows lifting with worry as she took slow, uneasy steps toward him. But something in him was also quietly exuberant and surprised. In the cell next to him the prisoner looked at the bodies on the floor and then glared at her with mouth agape.

Selise fumbled with the keys, hands shaking too hard for her to get the key into the keyhole. She didn’t know if she had ever put that much of herself into a spell before.

“Here, let me,” Anders said gently as his warm hands enclosed around hers. She loosened her grip and let him take the keys, his arm reaching through the bars and angling around to point the key where it needed to go. Selise turned back to the cluster of bodies strewn about the room. Most of them had simply crumbled where they stood and ended up lying on their sides as though they had meant to be there. Cullen would be sore when he woke though. There was no way laying down in all that metal armor was comfortable. Same for the Templars. 

She had no idea how much time they had until people began to stir. She hoped she had put enough power into the spell to keep them asleep for a while, but these were not commoners who succumbed easily to magic. These were hardened, battle tested fighters. They probably had built up a good deal of mental and spiritual resistance over the years.

The rational voice in her mind sparked on again. There was still much to do and no time to linger. Selise knelt down next to the Inquisitor, digging into the potion pouch attached to her belt. Within she found exactly what she’d been hoping for: a full supply of potions, both lyrium and for health. Selise pulled out and downed three of the lyrium potions, saving another three for Anders. She slipped another two into one pocket of her robe, and half the health vials into another pocket. As she emptied the third lyrium vial, she felt warms hands on her, one on her back and the other smoothing back her hair. Anders was there, crouched beside her.

“You hit your head pretty hard back there,” he said. She thrust three of the lyrium vials into his hands and he emptied them one after the other. She took a minute to search the room. What now? They needed to flee, obviously, but Anders couldn’t emerge back into the courtyard in the same cloak he had worn on the way down. Everyone had already seen him being led through the Great Hall wearing it, obviously a prisoner or criminal of some kind.

Her eyes flew to the Templars. Anders would have to put on some of the armor, most especially the helmet. That might also help him get into the supply rooms without too much suspicion. As she let her mind race, Anders hand cupped the back of her head and she felt the warm vibrations of his healing energy penetrating her skull, easing away the pounding from her impact with the floor. She rest her head in his hand for a moment and then stood, grabbing Anders and pulling him to her, briefly burying herself in his chest.

“That was…. Impressive,” Anders said, his voice coming out a rasp. “I had no idea what was going to happen there for a while. I thought all was lost.”

“Nothing is lost my love,” she told him, “but we need to go. Now.”

“But we still need to find the bo…”

“Shhh!” she ordered, glancing toward the prisoner who continued to watch them quietly. He was hanging on their every word and Selise knew now that no matter what spell she cast on him, he would remember this.

“Oy! You can let me out now,” the prisoner called. “Let me out and I won’t tell anyone what I saw.”

Selise thought a moment. It was too late for that. There was no hiding what she and Anders had done in order to escape, though it might still take a while for them to notice the book was missing, as long as nobody told them they should be looking for it. Plus she had no doubt that this man was an actual criminal, having apparently done something bad enough to keep him locked up down here for several weeks. Feeling the lyrium soaring through her body, she pushed a small wave of sleep at the man, and he slunk down into a pile at the bottom of the bars.

“I have it. The book. I found it, while you were all in the war room,” she told him. His eyes lit up even further and his mouth dropped open, “We need to split up, get everything we need and then go before they wake,” she told him.

“You have it!?” he asked incredulously.

She nodded, feeling his exhilaration grow and begin to infect her. The smile spreading across her lips was interrupted by his mouth pressing urgently against hers. She kissed him back for an indulgent moment, and then pushed him gently back, feeling the pull of his tempting kiss begin to work its enveloping magic. She could fall into it all too easily and find herself naked and on the floor before she could blink, but there was no time. She was eager to get moving now that their clock was ticking.

“Put on the Templar armor. The guard tower to the right of the Skyhold gate has a store room, you should be able to find most of the supplies we need there. I’ll run to our quarters and grab our things and I’ll meet you in front of the gate. Act completely natural and hopefully no one will question you. I’ll be as quick as I can,” she instructed him and he nodded obediently, eyes twinkling.

“Selise. You’re an angel,” he said as she pulled away and sprinted toward the stairs.

 

She exited the dungeon to an empty courtyard. Cold, fat raindrops were falling from the sky and though it caused her to shiver as they rolled in icy streams through her hair and down her neck, she found that she was immensely grateful not to have a crowd of eyes on her. Even if the buildings would all be full, even if many of them were already beginning to suspect that something big was happening, at least there would be fewer people to witness the opening of the gate, or the two people fleeing across the long bridge.

Since she had arrived at Skyhold initially with such a small collection of things, she had no bag large enough to carry all of her and Anders’ clothing, so she just grabbed what looked the most practical. An extra robe, a set of small clothes each. She pulled a grey wool blanket out of one of the drawers of her bureau and wrapped it around the Seeker book. They would all have to go inside the same bag, and she couldn’t risk damaging the brittle pages of the book before she and Anders had even had a chance to read any of it. The last thing she grabbed was Anders’ iron tea kettle. It was heavy, but they would need something to melt snow in to make drinking water. It could even serve as a pot to cook food in, she figured. She filled it with several extra pairs of socks and stuffed it onto the top of her small pack, and then made her way to the kitchen and gathered up as much food as she could, plus a tin of tea, putting it all into its own flour sack.

It seemed that every eye in the Great Hall was on her as she emerged holding her two bags. A chill ran up her spine as numerous clusters of people went silent, watching her closely as she weaved through the crowd. She had wanted to avoid using the nightmare spell, but she realized that in this case it would be the most prudent option. Either cripple one person with horrific, traumatic visions, or drain herself again by trying to disorient a huge group of people. Her eyes fell upon a man on the far side of the room who appeared to have had a bit too much to drink. He was swaying, flagon in hand, and telling a disjointed story in a loud, belligerent voice, completely oblivious to the rest of the crowd. Selise sent over the wave of energy, trying not to make the gesture too noticeable. She didn’t look his way as she did it, didn’t stop walking and after several steps she saw the people before her begin to turn their heads, looking past her. The man wasn’t screaming in fear, instead he was barking angrily as though trying to instigate a fight. Slowly his angry voice got more and more shrill, calling greater attention to himself.

But it wasn’t enough. Too many people were still watching her, especially the further she got from the ensorcelled man. She locked onto another person way ahead of her, in the corner of the room by the door, and pulsed out another wave, this one slightly stronger, hoping for a louder, more dramatic distraction. The sounds of the scream that came from the poor soul in the corner made her shudder, and she immediately regretted having to do it. She ducked her head down and quickened her pace, keeping her eye on the large wooden door. She needed to get to Anders in case he needed her help.

The door opened to an absolute downpour. The grass was slick and splashed up her legs with each step she took. She almost slid to the ground a few times as she hurried from the steps over to the guard tower. Before she reached it, she gulped down another vial of lyrium. Just in case, she thought. She threw open the door, and her breath caught in her throat. Anders was cornered in the far side of the room, with a group of guards standing before him, clearly in the middle of an interrogation. He only had on a few pieces of the Templar armor, including the helmet, which must have made the guards suspicious. Of course it would be difficult, not to mention time consuming, to remove every single piece of the Templar gear. Anders had the chest plate and arm pieces, but his legs bore only his brown breeches. Perhaps that hadn’t been the best idea after all, she thought.

Every head turned toward her, but no one seemed terribly concerned. That was probably a perk to being a young looking, soaking wet girl, she figured. She dropped both of her bags on the floor by the door and sized up the room.

There were seven of them, all of them wearing only pieces of their armor, as though they had been interrupted in the middle of changing. Most of them were younger, babyfaced men, and they looked green and untested. Her whole body was buzzing with lyrium enhanced mana and she felt a surge of purpose. She could do this, she thought. She _had_ to do this. But once again she couldn’t cast out a wave to consume the whole group without catching Anders up in it. She felt the river of mana flowing toward her hands as she conjured up her spell, unleashing sharp blasts one by one at each of the guards. One fell, then another, then another. The eyes of the remaining guards went hard and dark as they realized what was happening, and they began to draw their swords.

Anders jumped into motion, throwing a bolt of electricity into the guard closest to him, sending him crashing into a wall and leaving only three standing. The one furthest to the rear ran toward a door at the back of the room, while the other two clutched their weapons, lowering themselves into loose, wide legged stances, readying themselves to fight.

One of the men advanced on Selise, his dark eyes full of fury, and he raised his sword high over his head, apparently intending to take her down with a single blow. If she put him to sleep he would still come down on top of her, she realized, and in a moment of instantaneous impulse she zapped him with a jolt of paralysis, causing him to freeze into place before tipping slowly off balance. Behind him, the room flashed white as Anders quickly dispatched the other guard with another bright, crackling bolt. This room now cleared, Selise darted around the frozen, slowly listing body before her to pursue the one who ran.

She burst through the door that the fleeing guard had exited, and found herself facing a narrow flight of spiral stairs. She climbed as fast as she could, ignoring the pain in her chest as he body screamed for more air, and then she came upon another door. She threw it open to find another room full of guards, all with swords drawn and waiting. These men were older, harder, and they kept the frightened lad who had run to them at their rear.

She heard Anders climbing up the steps behind her and she took a deep breath, drawing up the last of her mana and unleashing a shockwave that spread through the whole room with a concussive blast. She heard the bodies hit the floor heavily, one by one, their swords and armor clanging in a chorus of metallic protestation. She was drained again, her vision blurred and the room swaying woozily around her. She distantly heard Anders behind her, finally reaching the top of the stairs, and thankfully unaffected by the spell. The moment she felt his breath upon her neck she fell back into him, his arms coming up to catch her before she hit the ground.

It only took a moment before her clouded vision cleared and she began to feel steady again, the spiked adrenaline restoring at least enough strength to continue moving. She shook her head and steeled her back. It still wasn’t time to collapse just yet, she told herself. But they were almost there.

“Let’s go! I’ve got what we need,” Anders whispered into her ear, and together they turned and descended the stairs.

She felt like she was walking in a dream as she stepped around the bodies in the lower floor. Anders took the two sacks she had brought along with her and stuffed them into a larger pack, which he slung over his back. He then handed her off a pack of her own. Followed by a mage staff. Selise usually never bothered much with a staff, as the focusing stones that were supposed to tap into the user’s magic rarely obeyed hers. But she took it all the same. The pack was hard, stuffed full and heavy, but the adrenaline coursing through her helped her pull it on without much difficulty. She could feel a deep weariness pooling inside her, ready to catch her the moment the action was over. She didn’t know the last time she had expelled her magic with such force, much less done so several times over. And with this heavy pack, how was she supposed to keep up a steady pace if they were to travel out of there on foot?

“Should we get a horse?” she asked. It would be much faster and easier to make progress through the mountains if they had a mount, even if that did mean another mouth to feed and another body to keep warm. She had been wondering about that for a few days anyway, but with the weariness nipping at her heels it seemed an absolute necessity now.

“Is that possible?” he asked. They were both panting. His wide brown eyes looked almost black.

“Let’s try,” Selise said and she turned and swiftly exited the tower. Anders kept close behind as they splashed across the lower courtyard to the stables. She could see several people standing around inside the main barn and she took a deep breath, pulling the last vial of lyrium out of her pocket and downing it with a wince. She would feel badly when this was all over, she knew, even without taking into account how she had overextended her magic. Even mages could get addicted to lyrium if they used it too often, and she couldn’t remember ever taking so much of it in so short a time. Five full vials in less than an hour. She was truly challenging her body’s limits, and she would pay for it.

As they got closer to the barn she made out only three men, including stablemaster Dennet and the dark-haired Grey Warden. They were in the thick of conversation, but all turned to look at the two people approaching them in the rain. Selise didn’t even want to deal with an attempt at conversation, anxious to just get moving before everyone in the dungeon woke and alerted every one within the fortress to search for a pair of fugitives. Instead she went straight for the sleep spell, knocking all three men off their feet, but retaining just enough of her energy to get them through the gate. If the Maker was on their side, there would only be one person stationed there, and no one else that she should have to deal with. She didn’t know if she could take another vial of lyrium. Her body seemed permanently shaky now as it rattled with the strain of such tremendous input and output of magic. It was causing her vision to ripple, making her turn her head frequently to try to catch moving images on the outskirts of her sight, only to find nothing there.

“Remind me never to mess with you,” Anders whispered as they stepped over the bulky bodies and made their way to the stables.

She rested against a wooden beam and allowed Anders to take the lead in selecting and outfitting a large, light grey horse. He came around behind her and slid her pack off, securing it with his in a bundle behind the saddle. And leading the horse on foot, they made the final journey to the gate. The woman guard who was on duty there was lost in a book as she sat at her post, and Selise quickly plunged her into a deep sleep, exhausting the last of her mana pool. Anders helped Selise climb up onto the horse and she immediately felt herself collapsing forward. He ran around into the guard's alcove and inspected the controls for the gate, trying to figure out how to work them. She watched, bleary eyed and increasingly exhausted as the massive gate slowly began to lift.

Anders quickly reappeared at her side and climbed onto the horse behind her, urging the mount forward. She was grateful to finally rest, her body and her magic completely spent. She felt Anders’ lips against her temple as she closed her eyes and leaned back into his chest, letting her head fall into the nook of his neck. The horse accelerated into a full gallop and Selise opened her eyes, taking her last ounce of energy to turn and look back at Skyhold. The courtyard was still completely empty, the rising image of the stone buildings behind it clouded grey and misty by the down pouring of torrential rain. It was only then that Selise realized she was soaked to the skin. The further they got out into the icy mountain range, the more dangerous it would be for her and Anders to be so wet.

She could tell Anders knew this, as he urged the horse forward as fast as it could carry them. The poor beast was completely overburdened, but it obeyed Anders’ commands all the same, pushing faster and faster, until the bridge was far behind them and the path they were on split off, and then angled downward, leading them to the frozen glacial river at the bed of the valley. Selise let her eyes fall closed again, her body and soul too tired to care much about the penetrating wetness that was rattling her teeth.

They had made it out. Hopefully it would be a little while longer before people began to wake and ask questions. Before the first soldiers would be sent out to find their trail. And hopefully much, much longer still before anyone opened the vault behind the Ambassador’s book case. 


	13. Chapter 13

“Selise, wake up!” Anders hissed. She had been dead asleep for almost four hours when Anders realized she had stopped shivering. The thick, murky clouds that blanketed the valley brought darkness down about an hour earlier than usual and when he spotted a sharp outcropping of rock hanging over a nook in the gravelly bank of the ice, he urged the horse to a quick stop. The light was almost gone, and he was getting worried about Selise. No doubt she was exhausted, he knew exactly what that was like, but she hadn’t so much as twitched since she’d fallen asleep, even while riding fast and hard over the rough terrain that should have rattled her awake.

The little overhang looked like a good option for shelter. They’d need to stay as close to the fire as possible tonight to warm their blood and dry everything out, which ruled out the tent. He also thought that if he could position the fire sightly under the lip of the overhang, the rock above them might absorb and reflect some radiant heat, as well as provide a warm place to hang their clothes out to dry.

Anders slid her limp body off the horse and even after she crashed into his arms he still he felt nothing stir within her. Panic began to rise in his chest. Had he waited too long to stop? Her back against him had begun to feel warm after the first hour of riding, but maybe the leather coat he wore was only reflecting his own body heat back to him. He pulled her back into the corner beneath the outcropping and sat shaking her, trying to elicit some reaction. She had a pulse. She was breathing. Her skin was frigid and clammy, and the ends of her hair were frozen into crunchy cords of ice. But the skin of her face was bone pale, and Anders began to fear the possibility that she might have gone into shock.

After saturating her in the warmest healing energy he could summon, he finally left her lying under the shelter and set about frantically collecting wood to start the fire. The branches he found were all wet from the rain, but under a persistent blast of fire they eventually held onto some flames. He quickly unpacked their clothing and draped everything wet on the sides of the outcropping. There were two blankets stuffed into the bottom of one of the packs that were still dry, but he couldn’t wrap her in them when everything she wore was still completely wet.

Working quickly, he stripped himself and Selise of their clothing. He was grateful to discover his tea kettle inside a sack, and he filled it full of snow and set it near the fire to melt. The dry socks that it had contained went right on to his and Selise’s feet in multiple layers.

Undressing a limp, wet body turned out to be a much more difficult endeavor than Anders expected. The wet clothes refused to slide off easily, coming only in jerky increments that required considerable muscle to maneuver. He had to completely pick her up a few times in his attempt to wrench off sopping pieces that didn’t want to budge. But while tugging on her wet clothes, he heard her groan quietly and he began to breathe easier. Finally, some response. Once done, he settled down beside the fire in a nest made of the blankets and their leather coats. He pulled her in beside him and pressed his naked body fully against hers, trying to directly transfer all of his body heat.

The world went eerily quiet once he was done making camp, with only the crackling of the fire and gentle remains of the Calling whispering into his ear. But even that was fading, and he was starting to wonder if it was still there at all or if it was just the memory of it ringing through his mind. The little elf Inquisitor had informed him that what he was hearing wasn’t really what it seemed, that in fact it was Corypheus and a demon working in concert to create a false Calling that all Grey Wardens in southern Thedas were hearing. The panicking Wardens disappeared, retreating to an old Tevinter outpost where they were leashing demons with blood magic, preparing for another blight. They’d been duped, manipulated, and were right on the brink of becoming a full demon army under Corypheus’s control. As Inquisitor Lavellan had told him the story, he came to understand her decision to banish them, at least until the war was over. But even still he tried to think up a reasonable argument for him not to be banished himself. He wasn’t a Grey Warden any more, he didn’t consort with any Wardens at all, and in fact _they_ had ousted _him._ But over the weeks at Skyhold he’d already detailed for them how badly he had been affected just by being in the same building as Corypheus, and could think of nothing convincing to say in his own defense about why he should be allowed to remain. Leliana had surprised him by speaking up with a plea that the Inquisitor reconsider, while Cullen had plenty to say in support of his transfer. But Anders had seen in the Inquisitor’s set jaw and cold expression that the decision was already a foregone conclusion, and had been before she had even arrived back home.

 

He squeezed his arms around Selise and pressed his face into the back of her shoulder, relishing the fact that he was not currently in the back of a wagon being hauled off to Maker knows where. Banished from Orlais and Ferelden, the closest option for refuge was Nevarra and the Free Marches, both of which were full of people who still sought vengeance for the chantry, some as vigilantly as if it had happened yesterday. But thanks to Selise, he was free. And he trusted completely that she would help him hold onto that freedom, by whatever means necessary.

He’d seen the very moment that the she decided to act in the dungeon. Standing perfectly still next to Leliana, like a statue carved from marble, her silvery grey eyes suddenly turned to steel. Even from his position on the other side of the room he felt her power gathering and winding itself up, readying to be flung outward. There’d been less than two seconds between the time he felt it begin and when the whole room had been knocked off their feet. And once it was over, even he felt like he was in shock. She seemed to have just seen the opportunity and gone for it without hesitation, despite the fact that their other plans had included deliberately sidestepping any members of the Inquisition. And there she stood, having taken out over half of the founders, including the Inquisitor herself. Arguably the most powerful person in southern Thedas. It was still almost more than he could believe.

During the walk from the War Room to the dungeon, he’d been planning his own escape, but hadn’t gotten much further than to bring the wagon to a stop somewhere out of view of the gate, kill the guards and run back to Skyhold for Selise. He would have made something work, found a way. Somehow. He’d learned quite well that if you really wanted something, you found a way to make it happen. But he was sure that would have been far messier than what Selise had been able to accomplish. How could he ever show her how immensely grateful he was for everything she’d done for him? Everything in her own life that she had sacrificed?

He breathed her in, savoring the weighty feel of her in his arms, of all the soft curves that molded around his body. His eyelids begin to droop closed, pulled toward the earth as though tied to weights, sleep tempting him away from her. Nearby was the chuffing and shifting of the horse and he hoped that the carrots he’d dug out of a sack would be enough to hold him over until the morning. Below them the ground was almost aggressively hard, but he was finally warm, and the fatigue that was seeping through his bones was washing out awareness of any other discomfort.

 

He’d been right on the brink of unconsciousness when Selise jerked awake. She was still for a moment, looking around, and then squeezed affectionately at his arm with frosty hands. He breathed a deep sigh of relief.

“Welcome back to the world my love,” he whispered into her ear, grateful to know she was okay. She leaned into the sound of his voice, and he kissed the back of her neck, letting his lips rest against her cool skin.

She groaned in pain when she tried to turn around, adjusting her body in small increments until she was facing him.

“Thank the Maker,” she said as she slid her arms around his waist, pulling at him until they were tight against each other, her cold cheek laying against his neck.

“How far did we get?” she asked.

“About 4 hours out. I spotted this little ledge just as we began to lose the last of the light.”

“Only 4 hours? Do you think that’s far enough?” she asked.

“It’ll have to do for now. It’s a miracle we lasted as long as we did, wet and cold like that. You wouldn’t wake for anything. I started to get worried,” he answered. “Really worried, actually.”

“Did the book get wet?”

“The cover got a little damp, but that’s all I know. I was more concerned with getting you warm and dry,” Anders said. “How do you feel?”

“Weird,” she sighed. “Tired. Sore. Relieved.”

“I can’t believe you did all that for me,” he whispered. “I’ve escaped a great many places in my time, but I wouldn’t have gotten out of that one without you. Not for a while, and not without killing a bunch of people anyway. You were amazing.”

“I’m just glad that part of the whole ordeal is over,” she said as she smiled weakly, letting her eyes droop closed for a moment. “We’re not out of the woods yet, but hopefully we can stay ahead of them until we get some place safe. I wish we hadn’t had to stop so soon, but… to the void with that rain.”

“It helped us though,” said Anders. “Probably delayed them a bit, covered our tracks and scent. Though I really hope all our gear is dry by tomorrow. I’ll have to keep the fire stoked all through the night if there’s any chance of that.”

She nodded and nuzzled back into him, the disarray of her hair tickling against his bare skin, the delicate scent of her still damp flesh filling him up.

He settled his body down, relaxing his muscles and wrapping himself around her, laying gentle kisses in her temple and hair, working his way over her jaw and to her mouth. She snaked her leg through his and he felt himself grow hard against her hip. He tried to calm himself, not wanting to encourage her to use any more of her energy. She still needed to rest. They both needed to rest. But she had already noticed, and was responding to him all on her own, her hands roving over his shoulders and back, grabbing his buttocks and pulling him in closer. More than anything he wanted to consummate their new life together. From then forward everyone would know that she was his, and he belonged to her. There would be no more hiding, no secrets kept, no question about their feelings for each other. Her supple skin was so tantalizing and inviting, he felt his own kisses growing more passionate almost against his own will. It took everything that he had to pull back.

“Mmmmmm… I’m sorry,” he breathed after breaking away from her lips, taking a deep breath, “You need more rest. We both should probably conserve our energy. We have a short night and a long day ahead.”

She groaned in protest, bringing a hand around to capture his stiffening length, squeezing. “I know we’re tired, but we can rest after.” she pleaded into his ear as she nibbled on his earlobe, sending shivers down his spine. “Please?”

“Selise my love, you can barely move without wincing,” he said.

“I don’t care. I want you,” she continued. “I need you,”

She sucked on his ear, running her teeth gently along the sensitive lobe, while arching her hips into his as she directed one of his hands to a breast. She whispered his name with a raspy voice infused with such desire that he lost any thought of resistance.

He gave in with a growl, plunging into her mouth, sucking at her lips and sliding himself on top of her. She parted her legs and guided him in immediately, her thighs slick and eager. Her mouth broke away from his and she let out an impassioned wail the moment he was buried to the hilt. Jagged breaths escaped her parted lips as he began to move in long, slow strokes.

His heart practically pulled out of his chest as he watched her face, her brows drawing in a deep rapturous focus, her eyes looking like dark, radiant jewels.

“I love you so much,” he gasped.

She pulled him into another searing kiss, and somewhere in the back of his mind he was wondering how she had the energy for this after having just been completely drained and practically comatose. But all she’d done since the moment he met her was surprise him. She was strength and humility, kindness and courage, fire and ice, all contained in a soft, quiet package. Those fleeting moments in the War Room when he thought they’d be separated he almost sank to his knees and wept. And then he almost consumed the whole room in an electrical storm that wouldn’t have left anyone standing. Leaving her behind was simply not an option.

“I love you,” she breathed in return.

“Say that again,” he asked.

“I love you. I love you Anders.”

“Again,” he ordered, and she obeyed, again and again.

“Please stay with me,” he entreated as he dragged himself torturously in and out of her, stopping each time they were fully joined, resting there for a heartbeat and reveling in the sweetness of her body, with how perfectly they fit together. “Please…”

“I will. Forever. I am yours,” she sighed as her back arched and she contracted against him, sending ripples of intensity throughout the length of his body. Her eyes opened and locked onto his, staring into him as they moved slowly together, “I am yours.” 

He claimed her lips again, feeling the raging river of sensation building closer and closer to a shattering crescendo. She was digging so hard at his back that little bolts of pain broke through the wall of ecstasy, but it only seemed to enhance it, making him thrust harder, grip her tighter until he was afraid he might break her somehow. The sounds coming from her throat could have been cries of pain he realized, and he tried to loosen his grip and pull away a little, but she only clutched him harder, pulling him back against her with an impassioned urging. He felt a hand thread into his hair and grab at the roots, holding tightly as she entwined her tongue with his, writhing against him and pushing them both into an incinerating finish.

The last thing he heard after he collapsed on top of her, and before he slid off into unconsciousness, was her voice saying his name.

 

 

 

Selise woke with a jerk. She hadn’t even remembered falling asleep. She only remembered being gripped by an all-consuming need to hold Anders as closely as possible. To give herself over to the man she had just walked into a new, frightening future with. She’d felt the almost feral desire for his body, but she’d also felt the residual fear of the entire day. Of those desperate moments searching the rooms of the lower floor, her terror growing each time the next place she looked turned up empty. And then there was the icy fear that had struck her he when she listened into the other side of the War Room door. They’d barely completed anything close to a real, workable plan, and to have the whole prospect practically pulled out from her her had sent her into a mental and emotional tailspin. But now here they were, free and on the run.

The sky had lightened into a deep cerulean blue and she sat up, recoiling from the wet, frigid air that drenched her exposed skin. The fire had died down to coals as Anders finally slept. She felt him rise periodically through the night to rekindle the flames, and knew he couldn’t have gotten much sleep. But there had been a reason she’d been jerked so abruptly from her sleep. A vision, a mental warning that a camp of Inquisition soldiers had already risen and mounted their horses, making their way toward them.

“We need to go,” she said sharply to Anders who was still dozing quietly. She rubbed her hands briskly up his arm, and then leaned down to kiss his temple, inhaling the scent of smoke that clung to his hair. “Anders, my love. It’s time to leave here. Quickly.” He stirred slowly but seemed to register the seriousness in her voice, opening his eyes and forcing himself awake.

She climbed out of their nest of leather coats and blankets, grabbing a robe to wrap around herself. Even through the layers of socks, the cold of the rock below them bit into her feet and she yelped as she hopped toward her boots. Their packs were resting against a rock wall and the one Selise tried to pull to her didn’t budge. The canvas was still slightly damp and the backside of it must have frozen to the rock. Selise’s muscles shook as she pulled it, her body still feeling thoroughly queasy and unsettled from the exertions of the day before. The pack peeled away from the wall with a crunch and she searched through it for clothing, but it contained little. Finally she saw that most of it was draped around the rock that roofed them.

She pulled the pieces closest to her down, and began to dress. She was unsure if the fabric was still damp, or if it only felt that way because it was so cold, but as she slid it over her skin she began to shiver violently, gasping with each new icy layer. Over the top she secured a thick leather coat and then pulled her hair free from its tie, shaking out the frozen tendrils and quickly twisting it back up into a neater pile on the back of her head. The cold that clung to her damp clothing seeped into her bones, and she saw the only solution as getting up and moving around, but she was still buzzing with the remnants of too much lyrium. The faster she tried to move to gather their belongings and fill their packs, the more she began to feel dizzy.

 

It was worse on the horse. She had taken the position behind Anders so that he could see the path before them better, but all the shaking and jolting only made her head pound and her stomach roil. She held on tight to Anders as he raced the horse through the icy valley, burying her face into his back and trying to breathe deeply to ward off the desire to retch, but each time they went over a particularly rough patch of terrain she felt the sour sting of bile on the back of her tongue. The sky was still draped in heavy grey clouds, and she knew that this far from Skyhold they wouldn’t be rained on. If it was to storm, it would be snow they saw. And while snow wouldn’t soak them to the bones like the day before, it would mark an easy trail for the soldiers to follow, leading straight to them.

After a couple hours of strenuous riding, Selise felt a curious tug on her consciousness, and she opened her eyes. On a distant hill below a white mountain peak, she saw a wispy green orb hovering above the ground. She reached in front of Anders and pointed to it, and he brought the horse to a stop.

“That must be one of the rips in the Veil,” he said.

“Can you feel it?” she asked him. She was feeling strangely drawn to it, even as tiny particles of movement revealed themselves on the ground just below. A tall, lanky limbed figure lumbered about slowly, and something else was darting around that disappeared every time she tried to look at it directly. They were out pretty far, but the hair on the back of her neck began to stand when they all mysteriously went still.

“They see us,” Anders said.

As the lanky limbed figure changed its trajectory to come toward them, Selise spotted a second figure just like it slightly further up the hill. She and Anders would be long gone by the time they reached the ice bed, but she still couldn’t shake the sickening unease that their attentions roused.

“Did they tell you anything about the rifts in any of those meetings?” Selise asked.

“Only that they spill demons into this world. And only the strange mark on the Inquisitor’s hand can close them.”

“Demons. How do you think Justice would react to that?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t want either of us to find out,” Anders answered gravely. He kicked the horse forward, who protested with a grumble but began to trot ahead.

“This poor beast needs a rest, and a good meal,” Selise said as she reached down to pat his rear. “The one thing I didn’t think to grab though was horse feed. I am sure those carrots aren’t going to fuel him for long.”

“Well we can’t rest here. Not with that thing, and those creatures, right there,” he said.

“Agreed,” said Selise.

“Any idea how far behind us the soldiers are?”

“I haven’t seen anything since this morning. I’d rather play it safe and guess they are only a few hours behind. We should probably be thinking of ways to throw them off our trail somehow.”

Anders nodded, and Selise tightened her arms around his chest. The figures in the distance continued their slow advance, and something about their unhurried pace only heightened her uneasiness. They seemed like they thought they had all the time in the world to reach her. What did they know that she didn’t?

 

The horse held out for another two hours of travel. The terrain leveled out, and the river of ice widened, cutting a large swath though the mountains. As long as they stayed right down the middle, they could avoid all the rocks and boulders and were traveling at the fastest clip yet. Selise’s nose, hands and feet were numb, but if her clothes were still damp she no longer felt it. But she had to use Anders’ back to shield her burning eyes from the biting cold wind that blasted at them.

There was no point in talking while the horse was in full gallop. Their bodies were jerking around and the wind in her ears combined with the clomping of hooves seemed to drown out all other sound. It was difficult to tell where exactly in the sky the sun was behind the clouds, but since they’d had no plans to leave the icy valley bed they hadn’t needed to use to sun to gage direction just yet. But if the clouds became a permanent feature that might become a problem.

 

She was suspended in a hazy, half awake state when Anders brought the horse to a stop again.

“I have an idea,” he said as he climbed off the horse.

“You’ll probably want to tie the horse up for a moment. He’s probably not going to like this.”

She looked around and saw that in the time she had drifted into a half sleep, the ice bed had gone from a wide river to a narrow stream, with sharp cliffs rising over them on either side. She did as Anders asked and tied the horse to a tree a good distance away from where he stood looking up at the cliffs. She was walking back to his side when he turned and waved for her to get back. She stopped in place, watching him curiously, and then felt vibrations rising from the ground below her. Anders was holding his staff purposefully at his side, and she thought she heard his voice murmuring something low and melodic, but couldn’t make out if that was him, or if it was the buzzing of the energy that she was feeling around her. Slowly a swirling sphere of light enveloped him, and the air filled with an crackling electric charge.

Suddenly Anders twirled his staff and slammed the butt of it hard against the ground. At the moment of impact a powerful shockwave was released, rattling her teeth and making her ears pop. Massive, blinding bolts of lightning shot from the staff to both of the cliffs on either side of the ice. The world around her erupted in the song of chaos. The horse began to shriek, and she turned to see it raised on hind legs, straining frantically against the rope that tethered him to the tree. At the same time came an ear-splitting crack, followed by the sharp crash of splintering rocks as they cascaded down the face of the cliffs. The magical energy swelled again and again as Anders unleashed his staff repeatedly, sending out a frightening web of infernal light. The brightness of the thick bolts was painful to look at, and Selise closed her eyes, turning away from the storm that was now completely surrounding Anders in a tornado of power. She turned her back to it, seeing silvery blue stars clouding her vision, while the air was filled with the deafening cacophony of destruction.

The horse continued to panic, whinnying and cantering desperately. This poor beast obviously wasn’t used to magic, and had already had a hard day and a half with little food and freezing temperatures. It would be depleting what little energy it had left in its terror, and would be difficult to calm once this was over. Most likely, she would need to attempt to soothe it with a spell, and then their progress would be slowed considerably.

The crashing sounds behind her built to a chilling climax that made her crouch with her hands over her ears. And then slowly as the uproarious commotion faded into smaller ripples of scattering noise, she stood and turned to face Anders’ work. Before her towered a solid wall of collapsed rock. The cliffs had been brought down into a rocky barrier that rose several meters over her head at its lowest point. Any soldiers behind them would need at least a full day to circumvent the wall of rock, if not more than that. Selise couldn’t help but let out an ecstatic holler at the sight. Anders turned and walked weakly toward her, his lips curled in a satisfied little smile.

Her feet moved swiftly over the gritty ice, carrying her to him as though she were floating. He draped an arm around her and allowed himself to be assisted back toward the still panicking horse. Selise couldn’t wipe the proud grin off her face, which only made his smile widen.

“What, you haven’t heard the tales of all my amazing and powerful feats of magic?” Anders joked. “Figures.”

Selise laughed and squeezed him close. “I have actually,” she said.

“Well good,” he said. “Might be a little different from yours. Maybe a tad flashier.”

“As it should be. We’re magical complements, remember?”


	14. Chapter 14

They were the same walls she looked at all day every day. Dented and grimy, half the greyish paint long since chipped away, and only one small window that looked out over a barren field and a disintegrating barn. On the other side of her door she heard her brother’s voice as he paced the house, talking to himself. Narrating his day and imagining two sided conversations as he waited for the return of their father. The rhythms of his speech mirrored that of their father’s so closely that at times she wasn’t sure who it truly belonged to. Selise had little idea what else her brother did out there while their father was away, sometimes for hours, sometimes for the entire day. She knew that his activities included intermittent noise followed by eerie silences. And that sometimes he would have a girl over, and she would hear squeals of a high pitched voice that could have been pain, could have been laughter, or could have been something else.

She spent most of the hours by the window, watching the birds in the field, especially the one large hawk that used it as a hunting ground. Often she would see it carry its still struggling catch over to the solitary fence post, where it would tear apart the nug or rat and swallow the bloody pieces whole. And then it would rest a bit, standing sentry on the post for an hour or two with a big lump protruding from its neck. The hawk was the being she saw more often than any other. But she often wondered why a bird that was built to know boundless space spent so much of its time in the same field. If she could enter the hawk’s body, even for a couple hours, she would take herself far, far away from this ugly wasteland. But she supposed this beast, like any, had to eat. And the field was never tilled, never sowed, at least not any more. It held a guaranteed meal at almost any moment thanks to the absence of human interference.

On the days her father visited the tavern he always announced his homecoming with a distinctive drunk belligerence. He’d go on unintelligible rants and send chairs crashing against the wall or dishes clattering in the sink for no other reason than because they were there. Some days she’d hear violent quarreling between him and her brother. On those days she was glad to be locked away, though occasionally the safety of her room was breached, and she was reacquainted with his bloodshot eyes and solid fists. On other days she would see her father in full Templar gear, dragging a beaten mage into the dilapidated barn. And she knew that within hours she’d be pulled her from her room and marched out there too, only to be ordered to administer pain, nightmares, weakness, and eventually, an untimely and untraceable death.

Those days were a confusion of emotions. Dread, guilt, fear, desperation, resentment, hatred. But she also knew that once her work was done, she would finally get to bathe. She might even get a decent meal or a new pair of clothes if her father was particularly satisfied with her work. It was the only time she got anything other than the stinking rags, toilet bucket and stale crusts of bread and soggy vegetables that her brother provided.

Trying to figure out a way to turn her powers against her father was the foremost thought in her mind on almost every day but those in the barn. In the barn her thoughts were simply about blocking out the screaming and getting through to the end without a fist to the head, getting to the hot bowl of stew or cold tub of water that waited on the other side. The wish for a way to defend herself against the spell purge that thrummed through the door, stripping her of her abilities for hours, was ever-present. Same for the dose of magebane her brother would supply halfway through the day, which she was forced to swallow under his intense scrutiny. He wanted her to refuse to take it, as then he had license to whip her. But she swallowed it down every time simply to avoid giving him that satisfaction.

How does a girl defy the man who remained the largest and most frightening figure in every single memory of her life? All she knew of the world, she knew from him, and from what memory survived of the time before her mother mysteriously died. The only other things she knew were the walls, the window, the field. The stories told by the mages in the barn as they answered questions and begged for their lives. The irregular occasions he transported her somewhere, usually to meet the one other Templar who knew of her existence. That always meant there were multiple mages who had been captured and needed “interrogation”, and usually they were cornered privately somewhere and already wounded. Sometimes there were already dead present. But if it was only the one mage, then to the barn they went.

Her father had always seemed omnipresent, aware of everything she did and everything she thought. Always one step ahead of her. Even when he was drunk, he retained a fierce focus in his gaze and a ready striking hand that kept her in line. The biggest motivator for her obedience, was how much both he and her brother enjoyed making her regret ever trying to rebel.

This particular day was familiar. The telltale tatters in her clothes, particularly the newly ripped seam of her sleeve which bared her left shoulder. And the kicking, struggling boy that she watched being pulled into the barn before her father turned to the house. His face was scratched and bloody, this particular mage somehow able to land a claw to his cheek in his attempts to fight. These things always told her what day it was; this was the day she finally did it. The day the magebane didn’t work, possibly because of the rancid meat she’d tried to eat that morning which had her feeling ill. The day she felt an exhilarating stream of magic rushing under her skin as she watched the metal clad monster that was her father as he wiped blood off his face and approached the house. The day the flames burst from her hands for the first time, and she was the only who made it out of there alive.

By now she knew when she was dreaming about it, even though she still hadn’t figured out how to wake herself and escape the memory. She’d watch with dread for what felt like hours until she finally felt the flames singeing her hair and blistering her skin as she made her way to the field, and then she’d wake, sweaty and with her heart racing. While the nightmare itself was saturated with terror, her feeling upon waking was always one of reprieve and salvation. She had done Thedas, and mages in particular, a favor when she removed her father from the world. And every time she woke, she found herself a long way away from that old reality, never ever having to return.

On this night, the dream felt different somehow. After the inevitable combustion, she stood in the field watching the house burn. The screams of the two men inside had already faded away and she felt only a deep numbness. She already knew she’d be going to the Circle and turning herself in. She’d decided years before that she would as soon as she had the chance. Even if there were Templars there, they at least could be watched, their actions known by others. The only question was whether she should explain about her father. Even to tell them who he was would have been revealing enough on its own. In the end she did tell them his name, but very little else. And she learned on her own later that he hadn’t been a full Templar for several years by the time she finally escaped. His pursuit of apostates had continued beyond his employment due only to a sadistic personal vendetta.

The difference on this night, was that she wasn’t alone in the field. At first the bald elf was just an apparition in the corner of her eye, a floating haze of yellow and white. And then she turned her head to see that he was actually standing silently beside her. At least, as actually as possible when caught awake within a recurring dream. His face was drawn into a grim frown, his two brows straight, angled lines of enmity as he watched the old wooden house begin to collapse. Selise said nothing, wondering why her mind had brought him into this place with her. But when deep blue eyes flicked over to her, she got the sense that he was not the product of her imagination.

“I said I would find you did I not?” he asked her. “And I have.”

Selise nodded. She was unsure why he was there in the first place, and the longer she looked at him, the sharper his appearance got and the more alert she began to feel. Wanting to test it, she closed her eyes and tried to leave. If she wanted to be anywhere, it was where ever her body really was. With Anders.

She opened her eyes and was standing in Anders’ room back in Skyhold. It was not where she had intended, but to truly be there would have involved simply waking up. This room was exactly what she associated with Anders originally, but it was empty, save for herself and Solas.

“You are an adept dreamer. I suppose that is to be expected, considering your gift of sight,” he said.

“So you really are here? In my dream with me?” she asked.

“I am. Walking in dreams is one of my most cherished past times. Some might call it a special ability, but most people could do it if they put their mind to it.”

Selise regarded him carefully. He hadn’t directed any hostility toward her, but he was with the Inquisition and surely could not think well of her after what she and Anders had done in their escape.

“How big of a mess did we leave behind?” she asked.

“Less than you might imagine. It would have been considerably worse had you not managed to leave everyone unharmed. Two guards recovered quickly from a shock, I assume from your companion. And Cole helped those in the Hall who received the Horror visions. But the reigning opinion is actually how impressive it is that you accomplished what you did without causing any loss or life or serious injury,” he said.

“Well that’s better than I was expecting. But there is still a large force out searching for us, yes?”

“Of course there is,” he answered. “That couldn’t be helped.”

Selise wondered if she should mention the book, since he hadn’t. And then decided she should probably guard her mind. He was in it, after all and she didn’t know what else here he had access to. That thought alone was unnerving enough on its own. If he didn’t already know about the book, she didn’t want to be the one to draw his attention to it.

“Can we speak about the scene we just left for a moment?” he asked her cautiously.

Selise felt the familiar pang of dread that always appeared when people asked about her childhood. She wasn’t sure how much he saw, only that he watched the home that contained her father and brother as it burned to the ground.

“I’d rather not,” she said.

“Very well. I am sorry to intrude on that scene. I normally try not to insert myself into dreams of such a personal nature.”

“So this is something you do often?” she asked.

“Not at all actually. And when I do I often take people to a comforting but neutral location and try to let them know right away what is happening. It is only fair.”

Selise nodded, “So why didn’t you do that for me?”

“You resisted my taking you anywhere. But I suppose my timing was off. You seemed to be engrossed in something… important. My apologies again.”

“So why are you here? Are you going to try to convince us to turn ourselves in or something?” she asked suspiciously.

“That was not my intention. I am sure you have your reasons for fleeing. My loyalty to the Inquisition extends to helping the people and our cause. Neither of those are served by depriving you and your companion of your freedom. Especially since you’ve already displayed that your intention is not to hurt anyone,” he said. “I am here because I believe we can still help each other as we originally agreed. Though I suspect that the… scene we just left might need to be explored for that to be possible.”

“How could that have anything to do with learning how to use my power better, or about my connection to the Veil?”

Solas gave a quiet laugh. He walked lightly throughout the room, inspecting the books piled on the the table. The room looked exactly as they had left it. The covers on the bed were still slightly wrinkled with the indentation of where two bodies had lay together. His searching eyes flashed back to her regularly, appraising her with a mysterious intensity. But she was not frightened, or even nervous. The eyes that looked into her were deep, intelligent and kind.

“Our experiences have tremendous power to shape who we are, especially experiences that are rich with emotion and trauma. The Fade responds to that, and much more than people realize.”

Selise considered what that might mean. Her childhood was nothing if not rich with trauma.

“At any rate, this sort of thing is best done in small doses, especially in the beginning. I just wanted to make contact, ready you for future visits if you are willing,” he said. “If not, simply say the word and this may be the last you see of me. At least this way.”

“It’s fine. I still want to learn,” she answered honestly.

“Excellent. I would urge you think more upon your past. Consider any events or experiences that might have left a permanent, if unconscious, mark, for that is where you will find important clues to enhancing your magic.” Solas said. “And I will try to have better timing next time.”

Selise nodded again.

“And have no fear Selise. This will stay between us.”

 

In an instant, she was awake. It was still completely dark outside, surely some frigid early morning hour that even the Maker himself would avoid venturing out in. The conversation with Solas had been about as real as any waking experience she’d ever had, and she found herself very disoriented by her sudden appearance into waking life. But this is where she had tried to take herself when she discovered she had the presence of mind to choose. Despite the cold, the multiple days now with no hot food beyond the occasional cup of tea, despite the increasingly grouchy horse that seemed to have left a permanent bruise on her tail bone, she would have chosen to be right where she actually was.

 

“Are you okay?” Anders asked in the dark, surprising Selise.

“Yes, I’m fine. Did I wake you?” she asked.

“Well yes. You were thrashing a bit, and calling something out a little while ago. But it stopped. Bad dream?”

“Something like that,” she sighed and scooted in closer to him, resting her cheek on his chest and nuzzling in as close as she could. It never ceased to amaze her how perfectly their bodies fit together, even in rest. He was just tall enough compared to her all that her curves and grooves fit perfectly into his. The first time she’d had sex, back in the Circle, she recalled only angles and bones and awkwardness. Even if she had wanted to lay for a while afterward with that boy, she was sure she would have been profoundly uncomfortable. But Anders was personified comfort. His voice, his touch, the way he was shaped, his kisses… everything soothed her, cocooned her in a warmth and tenderness that was nothing short of pure bliss.

She closed her eyes, but nothing changed. It was still as dark behind her lids as it was in the tent, and the pictures didn’t leave. Her father's scratched face, the kicking boy, the flames licking up the walls. It was all still there. Even the consoling presence of Anders didn’t scrub the pictures out of her memory.

“Can you make a light of some kind?” she asked him. She had seen him do it before, conjure up a ball of energy that lit up the dark. And he did it now, a spark of light growing into a swirling ball of bright energy, imbuing the air nearby with the smell of ozone. It lit his face and she immediately felt the dream begin to fall away, the images replaced by deep, glistening eyes, an aquiline nose and alluring lips. She relaxed herself onto his chest in a position where she could continue to look at him. They could see each others’ breath smoking through the air, and the air against her exposed skin was frosty, but also invigorating. It was helping to wrench her mind away from her dream and fully into the now. She felt herself smile slightly as she studied him. He was so beautiful. It almost seemed as though the Maker was rewarding her for making it through the first 18 years of her life. If she had known that this would be at the end of her path, those days in her bedroom would not have seemed as terrible.

And everything in her life had led her to this point. If her father hadn’t been a monster, she would not have run and sought refuge in the Circle. If she had not joined the Circle she would never have met the Nightingale. If she had not met the Nightingale, she might never have made it to Skyhold and been entrusted with Anders. She could, and did, still hate her father, most especially for whatever happened to her mother. But how could she fault the events in her life which had led her to him?

“Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?” he asked.

“No need,” she answered gently.

She picked up his hand and brought it to her face, laying soft kisses on the pads of his fingers. The cherished hand whose touches had opened up a new world for her. She skimmed a finger along the scars that circled his wrists. They were rough, textured, completely unlike scars that healed with the aid of magic.

“Is this all from the same… instance?” she asked him. “Or have you been tied up like this many times?”

“Two different instances. The same captor,” he whispered.

“And you didn’t heal them?”

“I couldn’t,” he shrugged. “Templars. You know how it is.”

She paused a moment, a chill not caused by the frigid air racing up her spine.

“Yes, I do.”

She ran her eyes over his shoulders and neck, and realized how little she even saw most of his multitudes of scars anymore. She’d become so accustomed to admiring him at every opportunity that they were just a familiar part of the landscape now. But each scar there was a little piece of his history, a story about a moment in time when he was younger, different, a still-in-progress version of the man he was now. Most of her scars might have been hidden, and she was sure he had plenty of those as well. But so many of them were written plain as day for anyone to see. Suddenly every nick and line that marred his skin seemed impossibly precious. They were a record of how strong he was, how bold and passionate, and of how hard he fought throughout his life, for freedom and the right to just be alive in the world. But while they were such a defining piece of the man she loved, they also were also wounds that could have taken him away from this world before she even knew him.

Just moments ago she was considering how the events of her life conspired to leave her right here, and now she convulsed internally at the thought of a life where Anders had never crossed that bridge into Skyhold. What would she be doing now? Sitting on her cot inside the tower room she shared with so many other mages, her nose pressed in a book to discourage any of them from speaking to her about their hair, or which robe was more flattering, or any number of things she had no interest in talking about. She’d continue to be bored, restless, empty. Living in complete ignorance to the experience of love.

The closest he had come to this fear being realized was displayed openly in the most sinister scar of them all, the crescent moon of shiny flesh that lined the entire left side of his neck. It should have meant certain death, if not for the extremely quick thinking of someone. She supposed that someone must have been Hawke. But underneath the skin the tendons worked, bones were whole and blood flowed. And he lived.

No matter what they had been through before, and no matter what happened from here forward, they’d found each other. Through the rocky, sticky, painful trials of life, they had managed be in the right place at the right time to come together.

Selise sighed happily and nestled back down into his arms.

“You can turn out the light now,” she said.

 


	15. Chapter 15

“This is remarkable,” Anders whispered as he sat reading the book.

“The Seekers created the rite of Tranquility, knowing from the beginning that it could be reversed…. By summoning a spirit to touch the Tranquil’s mind. Seeker initiates are themselves made Tranquil, before being restored by the spirit of Faith. It is said that afterward they are then protected from possession. Wow,” he read aloud while rubbing at his brow. “A spirit touching the mind restores their connection to the Fade. That explains why Karl…”

Anders’ eyes went distant and he sat in silence.

“Karl?” Selise asked. She was steeping tea in the kettle as they warmed themselves by the fire. They’d located a narrow cave and made camp within, grateful to get out of the biting cold.

“Karl… Yes, he was a mage I knew. I tried to get him out of the Circle, but I got there too late. He was already Tranquil. I was ambushed by Templars and once Justice came out… his mind came back. But only for a few minutes. I have been wondering ever since how that was possible. He…”

The sadness in Anders’ voice struck a note deep within Selise, and she stopped stirring the tea.

“He was someone who was very dear to me,” he said, his voice becoming shaky, “This means he could have been restored. Maker! If only we had known!”

Anders’ shoulders drooped as though they carried the weight of the world. Selise brought herself closer to him, wrapping her arm around his back.

“Could have been?” she asked. “We can’t find him and do it now?”

“I had to kill him. He begged me to,” he muttered.

“Oh. I’m so sorry my love,” Selise said gently. ”That’s terrible.”

His brows were drawn, eyes squeezed closed. Selise felt his pangs of sorrow as they ached in his chest. She realized she must have let her barrier slip again, and had to reweave it. It had been happening more and more often. She could only guess it was because of how comfortable she was with him, how open.

“Those _monsters_!” he growled. “Karl and I were in the Circle together for 2 years when we were growing up. We cared for each other. He was my… my first.”

“Your first…?” Selise asked.

“Yes. That kind of first,” he said. “And the only thing that made the Circle bearable for so long.”

Selise squeezed him tighter. She wasn’t terribly surprised that Anders’ first lover was a man. After spending three years in the Circle herself, she knew that in there everyone was bedding everyone, regardless of gender. Everyone except her, anyway. But she was sure that was only due to her lack of social skills. There certainly was that tall blond girl who was always giving her long, ostentatious glances, but Selise had only been confused by it all at the time. Later on she realized what it must have meant, not that she would have been interested in return. She wasn’t even particularly interested in the boy she did sleep with, she was only curious about all the fuss made over taking someone to bed.

She tucked a cord of his hair behind his ear. Her barrier was resurrected, but her heart still ached for him, as strongly as though nothing had been blocked out at all.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered again.

Anders sat silently for several moments. Selise poured some tea into the metal cup that he’d brought along, and set it in his hands. He turned to look at her with deep, sad eyes.

“Well at least we know now. And you won’t ever have to endure anything like that again,” she said softly. He nodded, his eyes falling down to stare into the cup of tea.

“So there’s no other spell or anything needed beyond summoning a spirit?” she asked. ”I mean… whatever that entails.”

He shook his head.

“Do you think… Could that maybe mean that you are immune to Tranquility yourself? Not only is your mind touched by a spirit, but it’s inhabited by one,” she asked. “Does it say anything about that?”

“Not that I’ve seen yet. But I’ve only just begun,” he paused to take a sip of the tea, “that would be interesting though, wouldn’t it?”

“It would. It would give me a little peace of mind. To know that no one could ever eviscerate you like that,” Selise said. He leaned over and kissed her on the temple, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her in close. She nestled into the nook of his arm, feeling his touch combine with the heat of the fire to drive away the last of the cold that remained in her bones.

“Now we just need to get you possessed as well,” he joked sadly.

She recalled how she almost had been, in the dungeon. But surely that wasn’t the same. The moment she let go of Anders, the spirit had retreated completely back into his body. She couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she completely sucked Justice in. Would he stay? Could she actually _take_ his possession from him? It seemed the obvious end result to what had already happened. Selise shook the thought out of her head. Even if it was possible, they would never try it. They _shouldn’t_ ever try it. Anders wouldn’t want that, and it would probably be irreversible. She could drain energy from people, but she couldn’t put it back into them.

 

It had been a long several days on the horse and the first time that they’d found an actual cave to camp in. The wind had gotten stronger as they’d pressed deeper into the mountains and they hadn’t seen or heard any sign of the Inquisition soldiers since Anders’ had brought the cliffs down. She’d begun to suspect that they’d pulled back, but knew that didn’t mean they had given up. Most likely Leliana would station many of her people in all the towns just on the outskirts of the Frostbacks, to listen and report back to her whenever she and Anders emerged into civilization. Surely there were still scouts and soldiers about, but she’d felt no psychic alerts on them in two days now, and even before that there were no indications that anyone was actually very close. Not that they stayed in one place long enough to find out.

Anders stood abruptly and began pacing the cave, leaving the book open on the ground next to where he had been sitting. He was angrily muttering things under his breath that Selise couldn’t quite understand. She left him to it and picked up the mug of tea, pulling the book toward her. She flipped absentmindedly through chunks of pages, skimming through passages and little drawings, but found herself unable to focus, her eyes blurring right past the words and images.

She wished they’d had the time in Skyhold to just read the thing instead of take it. The important bits of information they originally sought had already been summed up in a handful of sentences, which Anders had been able to relay to her in less than a minute. They really hadn’t need to steal this whole thing, had they?

And what if they hadn’t? What if the book was still exactly where it belonged back in the Ambassador’s office and the Inquisition didn’t have that to add to whatever other charges against them existed? Would they be more inclined to back off them eventually? Wouldn’t their forces be better spent on other things, instead of trying to track them down if all they were doing was fleeing?

Her mind began to race.

She was also concerned about the horse, whom she had begun to call Click. She wasn’t sure why, other than that the constant clicking of his hooves against the ice was all she had heard all day, every day for a week now. They didn’t have any proper food for him and she was already starting to see him get thinner, and more cantankerous as time went on. She’d been rationing out all the fruits and vegetables for the horse, but those were aging and shrinking, and would be gone very soon. In most other places she could let him out to pasture to graze on grass, but there was none of that here. Only snow and rocks and ice. Unless they got to a town very soon, the horse would begin to starve. And Selise absolutely could not abide the thought of that.

What if… what if after they read everything they needed to, they secured the book to the horse, and got him back to Skyhold? Or just put him back on a course to meet whatever soldiers might still be behind them? It would mean somehow getting him past the wall of rock, but if the Inquisition received the book back, and the promise to obey the banishment and get out of southern Thedas, at least after the stopover at Denerim, was there the possibility that they might just leave her and Anders alone?

She wished she knew the answer to that. Maybe the elf could tell her. Whenever it was that he showed back up in her dream, if that was even real.

 

Selise sighed deeply, her chest feeling heavy. She heard Anders continue to do whatever he was doing, pacing, talking, marking something out on the stone wall, but it wasn’t enough to draw her out of her thoughts. Ever since that dream about her father, where Solas had showed up, she’d been thinking about Leliana, Fiona and the Circle. They had shown her such trust and kindness over the years, teaching her how to act like a real person, not the sheltered, traumatized, unsocialized girl that she was the night she walked away from the house that had imprisoned her. They’d become her surrogate parents for a time, until her talents had been recognized by Fiona and she’d been given the opportunity to strike out on her own. Even then, they’d always provided guidance, and a place to come back to when she had no where to go. They’d been her first real friends. She had no idea what they would be thinking about her escape with Anders. She had no desire to have done anything differently, but she hoped that at the very least, they didn’t hate her.

And there was Solas’ face from her dream, burned vividly into her memory. She’d had the dream about the events of the night she escaped so many times that by the point she went to the field to watch the house burn, she felt very little. It happened, it wasn’t going to change, and she didn’t regret it. But the horror of the situation, the horror she no longer saw, had been written all over his face. In his sharply drawn brows, pursed mouth and disturbed eyes. It hadn’t meant much to her in that moment, but the memory of his face kept coming back again and again, worming its way into her emotions, causing growing ripples of unease.

“Think more upon your past,” he had instructed her. “For that is where you will find important clues to enhancing your magic.” But what was she looking for? Was there no other way? She could barely force her mind to find so many of those memories, much less linger on them, or penetrate and analyze them. And in all honesty, she didn’t want to.

Selise let her head hang over the book. She should read it, or as much of it as she could manage. They both should. But try as she might, her mind wouldn’t focus.

She stood up and walked to the mouth of the cave, leaving the echoes of Anders’ disquiet behind her. She pulled one of the grey wool blankets around her shoulders and inched herself around the horse, who was tied up on a length of rope that allowed him to come just inside the cave to escape the wind. The frigid air of the night cut straight through the blanket, but the chill didn’t lessen her desire for a moment of solitude and a few minutes of stargazing. Across the sky blushed the gentle green shimmer of an aurora, and while it took her breath away with its beauty, she was also reminded of the sickly green of the Fade rift she and Anders had seen. Just the one so far, but she was sure there were more of them out there.

Behind the aurora shone the billion pinpricks of twinkling light, and her mind was invited into a beautiful and contemplative abyss. A deep breath brought in air so frosty that it burned her lungs and she almost coughed, breaking her reverie. But she refocused, smelling the pleasantly acrid pine of the surrounding trees, hearing the low croon of a distant owl.

Each day had been so paradoxical, the daylight hours filled with cold, hunger, boredom, sore muscles, heavy minds, and anxious bellies. And during the nights she and Anders’ released their stresses by indulging in each others’ bodies, exhausting themselves until their minds fell quiet. Some nights they stayed quiet until sleep took them, and some nights they whispered through the dark, sharing fears, hopes, memories. He was her salvation, her comfort. But there were things within her that even he couldn’t touch, that she couldn’t bring herself to tell him. Just as she saw in his eyes and felt in his energy, that he had many of his own things that she would never know. She understood instinctively that it wasn’t so much that they were trying to keep secrets, it was that the act of telling would mean re-experiencing things that they wanted to forget. Things that would bring nothing good in their revealing, only the firing up of a pointless, helpless anger, and possibly even pity. They’d just have to settle for a silent acceptance of the well of darkness that the other carried, at least for now. At least until a time came when they were ready to divulge all the bloody details.

Selise opened up her mind, trying to rid her mind of all her thoughts. She just wanted not to think for a minute. She just wanted to be empty and free of worries, and to commune with the night, with the stillness of the sky.

It didn’t take long before the soothing darkness slid inside her and blacked out all the chatter that was cluttering up her resolve. But its calming effect didn’t last. With the absence of thought, came a flood of unbidden images, as vivid as the moon-drenched landscape before her. She saw a cave similar to the one they were camped within now, but larger, and filled with unfamiliar, robed bodies. She saw old, rusty cages with flat metal strips for bars and felt the raw, nauseating whirring of an unfamiliar magic. Spells older and darker than anything she had ever known. There was a foul scent of decaying, putrid blood in the air and Selise shivered, her stomach filling with a sickening dread.

She shook the scene out of her mind. She knew not what they referred to, and saw nothing of herself or Anders within them. Was it a warning? A portent of things to come? Or just some strange waking nightmare?

She was about to turn and go back inside when she felt the soft touch of Anders’ hand on her back. She opened up the blanket and he slid in behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder, silently joining in her admiration of the night sky.

 

 

Xxxxxxxxxxx

 

 

He had stopped Click and climbed off, stomping through the ice and looking at her wide, incredulous eyes.

“You want to _give_ the book back!?” he wailed.

She looked at him calmly, hoping he might eventually exhaust his initial emotional reaction and then come to think more calmly about it. She hadn’t meant to mention her idea, but the more they trotted away from Skyhold, the more she felt the possibility of easily returning the book slipping way. It had been all she could think about from the moment they had set out that morning, and the suggestion just seemed to fall out of her mouth, surprising her as much as him.

“That was the whole reason I was there! I let them keep me in chains for _weeks_ while we were being transported to Skyhold! It was all for this book. And now we have it.”

“Anders, did you not get the information you wanted?”

“Yes but we don’t even know what else is in there yet!” he screeched.

“So we read it. We read it, copy down the things we need to… You were already willing to try that if we had the time at Skyhold, but the Inquisitor forced us to act quickly. If we were still there, would it be any different? We find out what we need, and give the book back. What does it matter whether the information comes directly from the book or if it comes from us? If it’s the truth, then it’s the truth. The source isn’t going to change that.”

He stopped before her, his eyes dark, blinking wildly as though he couldn’t process her suggestion.

“For the credibility! For the proof of Templar’s abuses! People have been accusing me of exaggerating about the Order’s evils for years Selise. No one believes the radical mage when he claims conspiracy, no matter how right I am!”

“But what if, what if there was the possibility that they might not continue to pursue us if not for the book? Have you seen Cassandra? Do you really want her hunting us down for year after year?” she asked, her voice gone shaky. “Giving the book back might mean freedom, for us. Less looking over our shoulder for the rest of our lives. And have you thought about what we do beyond Denerim, after we deliver the information to the mages there?”

“Well, yes actually. If we know how to cure Tranquility then that is exactly what we do. We find the Tranquil and make them whole again. That is the whole point!”

“Okay,” she said gently. “Anders… we wouldn’t really be losing anything if we have all the information it contains, would we? We can still cure the Tranquil without it, as long as we can find out how to summon a spirit. Maybe the book will say, but once we know, then we know. Carrying this thing around is just a liability, it makes us more of a target than we already are.”

Anders turned and stalked quickly toward her, taking her hands in both of his and training his wild brown eyes on her.

“Selise don’t you trust me?” he asked.

“I don’t see what that has to do with…”

“Just trust me, please. The Circle needs to see it. They will need to read it for themselves. I might have entertained the idea of just copying things down before but I can’t do that now. We’re past the point of no return and…”

“No we’re not!” she gasped.

“So, what, you want to just turn around and go back to Skyhold? March up to the gate and say ‘here you go!’ and then think we can walk right back out again?”

“No, not at all. Anders… the horse is beginning to suffer. We needed him, but we weren’t prepared to bring him. We don’t have the proper food, we don’t know how to take care of his hooves… if we keep him much longer we’re going to have to just put him out of his misery ourselves. We can secure the book to his saddle and direct him toward Inquisition forces. It would require some backtracking but…”

Anders cut her off with a derisive laugh.

“You have a point about the horse, but come on. Do you seriously want to just send one of the most important books in Thedas out into the wild on the back of a horse, with no guarantee it will actually end up in the right hands?”

“Who else is going to be out here? We haven’t seen a soul since the day we left. And you know they haven’t given up that quickly. Maybe they pulled some of their forces back, but surely there are still soldiers out there. We could get really close if we need to, observe from a distance,” she told him wearily, though she cold see he still wasn’t buying it. Still, she would rest much easier knowing that this particular monkey was off her back. “We’ve been lucky so far, but our luck could change at any time. If we give them one less reason to want us, they might even decide to show us some mercy and let us go.”

Anders let out another sound, a cross between a laugh and a sneer, “You sure have a lot of faith in this Inquisition.”

She sighed and looked for a place to sit. She walked over to perch herself on a boulder and felt the fight begin to leave her. She expected resistance from Anders about the idea, but not an all out argument.

“Maybe I do. There are good people in there, and they have more important things to do than worry about us. If they don’t accomplish what they mean to then there won’t be any Ferelden circle remnants to take this book to. What is that in comparison to a catching a couple of runaways? Because without the book, that’s all we are. Well, you're still... you, of course. But still. With the book we’re also thieves. Traitors.”

Even as she said it, she wondered if she was wrong. She had also thought they’d at least hold Anders overnight before transferring him out, but they weren’t going to. She could very well be giving the Inquisition way too much credit to think they might give up looking for them, or that it would make any difference to anyone if they gave the book back, especially since they’d still have the incriminating information the book contained. Plus backtracking would be a big problem. She had no idea how far they’d have to go before they’d get close to the soldiers.

She pulled her hair out of its tie and began fingering through all the knots and tangles as she glowered at her feet. Was she completely off base? Did she sound as ridiculous as Anders was making it seem? She heard his footsteps come across the ice and then drop down beside her, sitting directly on the ice.

She would talk to Solas about it, she decided. He was still in Skyhold and should know about the book by now, and possibly about the search. He hadn’t made another appearance in her dreams yet, but he said he was coming back. Maybe she could seek him out somehow, or call to him. They’d had maybe a total of 30 minutes worth of conversation total since they first met, but she didn’t see what other avenues there were to explore.

“Well, then I guess we should probably go,” she said as she piled her hair back up on her head. Anders didn’t answer right away, and she didn’t meet his eyes.

“So what, you’re just dropping it then?” he asked, his voice sounding much calmer, softer.

“For now,” she told him. “There’s still a lot of it left to read anyway.”

He slid a hand up to her lap and grabbed hers, squeezing it affectionately. She could see his eyes in the corner of her vision, burning up at her, but she couldn’t make herself look back. She was suddenly feeling thoroughly confused. She knew that she would feel better if they gave the book back, but that didn’t mean it was the right thing to do, or that it would have the effect that she thought it might.

“Think of all the mages who have suffered at the hands of Templars, my love,” he urged gently. “I know you have friends there, people you respect. But this is bigger than them. It’s bigger than us. The world has the right to know whatever secrets the Seekers have kept and it’s going to take a long time to get through them all. We hardly have the time to do it now.”

Selise nodded. He was making good points. She finally looked up at him and found him staring pleadingly back at her as he threaded his fingers through hers over and over again. She wondered what would happen if an opportunity arose where she could put the book back in the hands of Cassandra, and she took it. Would Anders be so angry with her that he would break off everything they had? Or would he love her enough to try to understand, and work through it with her?

Maybe Anders was right that she should be thinking of the bigger issues beyond just Tranquility that were at stake. Perhaps it was just harder for her to keep the fires of anger burning under her because she herself had spent so little time in the Circle, or in the real world at all. Unlike Anders, who had decades of first hand knowledge of the abuses that were commonplace for most mages. Selise only knew what she’d been told, and what she’d read. Her three years in the Circle had been relatively easily, at least compared with everything that came before that. It was enough for her to support Anders’ past actions on principle, but as far as real world experience went, she had little. She had her father. But her father wasn’t abusive because he was a Templar. He was a Templar because it gave him an opportunity to be abusive. She supposed a lot of dark minded people might be drawn to the Order for that same reason. The thought made her shudder.

“Shall we?” she asked as she stood. She pressed down her concerns, drowning them out with more immediate matters. She helped Anders to a stand and they made their way back toward the pitiful looking horse. Selise felt a deep stab of concern as she approached the poor beast. Whatever it was they eventually decided to do with the book, the time was fast approaching that they would have to make a decision about Click. And almost any way that went would probably have the result of them having to make the rest of their journey through the Frostbacks on foot.

She stroked the grey horses’ neck, who cranked his head back and began sniffing and nudging aggressively at her hands and pockets, demanding food.

“There is still the matter of this guy,” Selise said. She walked around to her pack, and pulled out a handful of dried berries. Not only was the food for the horse getting low, she and Anders were getting low themselves. She had been keeping a close eye on the slopes around them as they traveled, watching for creatures to hunt for their own meals and saw nothing other than a few small birds. She expected that at some point they might begin to at least see some Ram, but there had been nothing yet. Her stomach growled as she thought about a thick, grilled steak. The handfuls of nuts and remnants of stale bread had done little to fill them up, and they’d begun to feel the energy drain from the lack of nutrients.

Anders stood quietly by as she offered the dried berries to the horse. Click inhaled them and then continued to nibble at her palm, biting down hard once no other food was found..

“Ow!” she cried as she jumped back and rubbed at the searing spot on her hand. The horses’ teeth had pinched flesh against bone and pain radiated outward, causing the whole hand to throb. Anders took it into his own and relieved the pain quickly, but neither of them made a move to mount the horse.

“There is no grass under any of this snow, is there?” she asked.

“Doubtful. I’d guess that the ground below hasn’t seen direct sun in… well, a very long time. If ever.”

Selise nodded, lost in thought.

“Let us just walk him for a while. Give him a break from carrying our weight. We should probably get used to being on foot anyway,” she said quietly.

He nodded and then stood before her, lifting her face to his with a gentle finger under her chin. He pressed his lips to hers. They were warm, but rough, chapped from day after day of riding into the cold wind. She kissed him back gently and felt herself soften toward him again, the tension that she still held onto from their argument begin to ebb. She pushed herself into his arms and rest her cheek against his the cold leathers of his coat.

“We’ll be okay, Selise. We will figure all this out, I promise.”


	16. Chapter 16

It took two hours of backtracking followed by almost four hours of waiting on a ledge with a hidden vantage point before Selise sensed the Inquisition soldiers. She’d woken that morning with a vision that they were advancing, and explained what needed to be done.  
“They’re close, and stopping to rest,” she whispered. “I’m going to go.”  
Anders nodded, glad that they could finally get it over with so they could continue on their way.  
“Give me five minutes, and then you can go for the horse,” she said and then she was gone, slipped silently off the ledge without even a glance over to Anders first. 

There hadn’t been much conversation while riding on any of the days they traveled, but ever since Selise had brought up, and then dropped, the idea of returning the book she had become particularly quiet. It was increasingly difficult even to catch her eye and get her to look at him. She’d sit for long periods by the fire and stare into space while letting a mug of tea get cold in her hand. At first he thought maybe she was just letting him focus on reading the book. But it’d been three days now, and aside from her insisting they needed to deal with the issue of the horse, she’d had little to say. 

He kept trying to shrug it off, reminding himself that they had plenty of things to be worried about, not the least of which was the imminent issue of their need to eat. She had started to get noticeably thinner, and he too was feeling a significant energy drain. But as the days crept by, he’d remained unable to ignore the uneasy stabs of worry he felt as he watched her moving about like an empty shell, her mind far away. She’d always insist that she was fine whenever he asked, but it seemed like she was drifting away from him. Was it that she really wanted that badly to give the book back? It had seemed such an unexpected request after she herself had done so much to get it for him in the first place. But since her suggestion had turned inadvertently into an argument, with him getting much more heated than he should have, she’d dropped the subject entirely. But he couldn’t believe that she wasn’t still thinking about it.  
He figured he should keep in mind how she had just completely walked away from her life for him. But the truth was that he’d begun to fear that she might be having a change of heart about even being there. Though if that was true, she wasn’t saying so, and aside from the quiet, not much else had changed. She wasn’t pulling away when he touched her. She still clung to him fiercely at night. But it was disconcertingly clear that something was different. 

He waited what he guessed to be about five minutes as Selise had instructed, and then rose to return to the horse, walking the animal closer to where Selise had run, and leashing him to a tree on the opposite side of the ice. The plan was to make the horse easily visible for whenever the troops began to move again, so that they would see and hopefully reclaim him. 

Selise was standing in the middle of the ice waiting to wave him over to the camp, which consisted of four soldiers and two Templars plus their mounts. Their sleeping bodies lay scattered on a bank of snow alongside the ice, all slumped gently over as though they had simply nodded off in the middle of conversation.  
Together the two them began rifling through the soldier’s packs, searching in earnest for their stores of food. He and Selise couldn’t afford to carry much more weight than they already had, and they wanted to take only enough so that the soldiers wouldn’t be entirely convinced that anything was even missing. But the hunger that was wringing out their stomachs drove them to desperation, and as soon as Selise found the first supply she began shoving nuts and strips of dried meats into her mouth. She walked over to him to thrust a small portion into his hands, which he ate eagerly.  
In addition to the nuts and meats, the group was carrying mushrooms, berries and some dense little oat cakes that were sweetened with honey. Selise removed small portions of every item from each supply, just enough so that the same amounts remained from soldier to soldier. If Anders’ calculations were right about their location, they only needed a few days of rations, since their imminent descent into the foothills should mean finally coming upon some game they could hunt.  
Quickly, they put everything back where it was and left the small camp behind them. 

It was Anders idea to walk a trail away from the horse up into the snow in the opposite direction of where they were going. He figured they could hike up to a distant outcropping of rocks, and then have their trail disappear there. It took a while, but eventually he spotted a rocky ledge that could allow them to follow the rocks off into many directions, including eventually dropping back down onto the ice without leaving more prints in the snow. Even if all it did was throw the soldiers off for an hour or two while they searched the hills and figured out it was a set up, that was two more hours of time bought. He and Selise would be on foot now, giving them a great disadvantage compared to pursuers with horses. They could only hope that having to take on an extra mount, and one that was tired and in need of recuperation at that, might help to slow them down even further. At least until he and Selise could reach terrain which would not be hospitable to horses for a while before they made their final descent.

Selise had stuffed her pockets with feed, and she quickly allowed the horse to relieve her of it before she bid him a sorrowful goodbye, rubbing sweetly down his neck even as he pranced about and nuzzled at her pockets for more food. They continued on their way, making their trail and then dropping back down to the ice bed to cross over and leave their glacial road behind. 

Traveling on foot in the snow was predictably much slower than the quick clip they had gotten used to, but there were many protruding rocks providing solid footing, and now that they were within the treeline they no longer had the icy sting of the breeze biting at their faces. About an hour past their departing point they finally had no choice but to walk in the snow, their pathway of rocks receding into the distance behind them, leaving each step to sink down until they were up to their shins, slowing them even further. Anders glanced at Selise as they pressed forward, and she had her head down, the black waves of her hair spilling out of her hood and down the front of her chest. She couldn’t wear it up if she wanted to keep the hood on, but Anders was glad to see it cascading in wild waves over her for a change. It was a deep reddish brown that was so dark it was almost black, and it reminded him of the scales he had seen on a Dragon once just outside of Kirkwall. She stayed focused, looking only where she planned on taking a step, and Anders felt a deep throb of sadness as he watched her trudge along. She hadn’t complained once during the whole trip no matter how miserable things had gotten, and she had let the horse go without bringing up the book again.  
He opened his mouth to call out to her, to try to say something to end the disconnection between them, but any words he could conjure up died in his throat. After a few more steps, he gave up the impulse, figuring they should probably stay quiet anyway, at least until they were much further out, away from the corridor of ice which the soldiers would be traveling. They couldn’t risk alerting anyone on horseback to their presence. He swallowed the lump in his throat and continued walking forward. 

 

 

They stepped into the energy field of the Fade rift without warning, both feeling the disturbance in the Veil at the same time. Almost immediately Anders’ eyes began to glow their surreal blue, though he seemed to remain the one in control. Selise froze in place and cautiously looked around, trying to glean whatever information she could from the energy surrounding her, but it was like being submerged in an ocean current without the ability to tell up from down. There was movement within it, the energy undulating and swirling, a piece of the Fade brought into the physical realm but left inconstant, changeable. Piercing through was the sharp vibrations from Anders’ spirit passenger, with the result being an overwhelming, disorienting whirlwind of energy. The view on all sides was blocked by close hills of snow and ice, any one of which could be the one obscuring the rip.  
Anders looked around wildly, his incandescent blue eyes blinking back and forth, trying to find the source. It was clear what it was, just not where it was. Only that it was close. The hair on Selise’s arms and neck stood up as she recalled the long limbs of those eerily unhurried figures from several days back. She had no desire to face down any of those things. Anders swung his staff free, cutting it effortlessly through the air as though it was an extension of his body, and Selise followed his cue and released her own from its holder. The long piece of greyed wood was unexpectedly light in weight, but as it merged with with her magic, reverberating tremors began to thrum within its core. She felt downright clumsy wielding it compared to Anders’ smooth motions. She pointed it at a tree and almost unleashed a blast of power just to test it out, but stopped herself. She filled with a quiet worry that her lack of success with other staffs might mean she’d end up as more of a hindrance than a help, and she knew already that creatures from the Fade did not respond to Entropy magic. They had no life to drain, at least not the kind of life that she needed.  
She thought better of testing the staff. The last thing she wanted to do was attract attention from the demons and whatever other creatures came from the rip.  
“Either we take a chance and go over one of these hills, or we backtrack,” she said. “The Inquisitor is the only one who can close these things. And my magic is practically useless on them.”  
Anders’ head only tilted in her direction in acknowledgment of her words, but his fighting crouch didn’t change. His staff glowed, fully charged with a power so intense Selise found it a little frightening. The violence contained within would draw the attention of anyone nearby, most especially any Inquisition soldiers.  
But it was also reassuring. She knew only what her imagination told her about the creatures that spilled forth from these rips, and it would probably take something of Anders’ intensity to defend the two of them. Especially as she wasn’t sure she could be of any help. She waited, and slowly he took a step backward, creeping away from the consuming cloud.  
She glanced again to Anders and found herself completely entranced by his transformed face, by the glowing eyes both vacant and knowing, by the calm confidence that he exuded. He stood as a sentinel, waiting, taking in things about their surroundings that she knew she could only guess. She remembered the way the world had been vividly enhanced in the dungeon when that spirit blue climbed up her arm and reached her eyes. Colors exploded in number, immeasurably different and full of life, and she been able to see the Veil before her, clear as day. If she could see the Veil now, she would know in what direction the Fade rift lay. Anders should be able to see that himself, but he was giving no indication.  
In a moment of impulse she let her staff fall to the ground and approached, entering the sphere of wind that surrounded him, a barrier of energy she had barely even registered until she crossed its threshold.  
The moment her fingertips touched his skin and she began to draw from him, the icy cold energy surged through her as though it had been waiting for the opportunity, straining to expand beyond its boundaries and hungry for any additional space that it could fill. It climbed her cells, dug its feet into her pores and pulled her into itself like a quicksand. She briefly registered the blue orbs of Anders eyes gaping at her, his mouth fallen open in shock. But when the spirit lens filled her vision, uncovering the multitudes of wavelengths normally hidden, all she could see were the pulsating colors and the translucent shine of the Veil. She focused on the ripples that poured through it and followed them to its origin. It led to a piercingly sharp pull of energy over the small hill to her right. She knew they needed to retreat, but she discovered herself being called toward it, feeling the spirit of Justice within her urging her to explore the portal that would lead back to his origin.  
She fought the pull, tugging on Anders’ arm in the opposite direction of the disturbance. She felt his body relax under her grip, obeying her direction. Justice was struggling within them, trying to rise up and take full control, but with his energy split between the two bodies he couldn’t seem to find a toehold. Yet she felt his power. He was a manifest piece of the Fade, lending them a connection that was deeper and wider than any that came naturally. She felt something far beyond her usual well of mana, something like an ocean of power that inundated and swallowed up her meager little pond.  
A gasp and the pull of Anders’ resistance caught her attention, breaking through the rush of sensory inundation, and she turned to see bright brown eyes looking back at her. Brown, not blue. She quickly dropped his arm and felt the viscous stick of the energy as it left her, drawing itself reluctantly back to Anders and leaving her feeling empty and overheated, the world around her falling muted and dull. She hadn’t been paying attention, and had almost taken too much. Almost all of it, it seemed, an end reached far too easily for her comfort.  
But she knew now where the Fade rift was. She hastened her retreat, urging Anders to follow but he only continued to gawk at her with a mixture of shock and horror.  
She grabbed his arm again and turned swiftly to pull him into a run, but was brought to a frightened halt by the image of an approaching figure. At first glance it looked like a giant green spider, and then she realized it was crouching. As it launched into the air she recognized the unnaturally thin and long limbs.  
Anders sprung into action, putting himself between Selise and the creature and firing off a blazing bolt of magic that connected with the figure, knocking it out of the air and into a hard landing. Selise picked up her staff, feeling it fire up under her touch and ran up onto the highest of small hills around them, looking into the little valleys for any other approaching figures.  
The staff she wielded obeyed, shooting a stream of flames at the approaching demon but any damage she might have done was lost, swallowed up within the devastating fury of Anders’ attack. He was a distracting sight and she found herself struck useless, gawking at his effortless mastery of the spells of destruction. He flashed light and dark, building up a tremendous power that burst into a massive electrical storm. She shook herself out of her trance when the creature let out a shrieking, blood-curdling cry and she doubled her efforts, focusing her energy into the staff and letting the fire course wildly toward the green body. The onslaught of magic stopped it in its tracks and within seconds the creature fell with a dramatic flail. Selise stood in awe, chest heaving and heart racing in her ears.  
In the distance, she heard the echoes of another shrieking cry and Anders turned to look at her, eyes once again glowing blue.  
“Run!” he called, and they both threw themselves forward and out of the Fade cloud, pushing their over-encumbered bodies through the shin deep snow at an impossibly slow speed. She embraced the chill of the coursing adrenaline in her veins, following its urging and letting it carry her heavy body forward, pushing her on despite the burning lungs and heaving chest, the pack that wanted to crush her beneath it, through her aching knees and lead filled feet. They ran for what felt like miles, but when finally he stopped and they surveyed their progress, they were still well within eyesight of the rift. It glowed a bile green, and seemed all the brighter for the illumination it cast upon the hills of snow below it.  
“Shit,” she gasped, expecting that they would be farther. In unhurried pursuit were numerous moving bodies following the rough trail they carved through the snowy field. She counted five figures before finally they turned again and continued on. Each stride through the snow was stretched as wide as they could manage, propelling them onward, escape being their only defense from the foul beasts on their trail.  
Her muscles burned, her heart pounded like crashing waves in her ears and her breath came in hard, frosty puffs of smoke. She focused only on the next step, unable to comprehend the possibility of keeping up the effort beyond that.  
After an hour they approached another rocky ledge and gratefully pulled their weary bodies out of the snow and onto the easier steps of the exposed rock. Anders dropped his pack and scaled up a ridge to a jutting cliff while Selise collapsed to attempt to restore the oxygen to her body, blinking away the floating spots of blue that hovered within her vision.  
“I don’t see them,” he said after he reappeared, falling to the rock and splaying himself out.  
Selise could sleep right there she realized. Her limbs were heavy, throbbing with overuse. She closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing, easing the oxygen into her searing lungs.  
“Good,” she panted.  
“We can’t rest for long,” he gasped, “just because we can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t still there.”  
“Uh huh,” she groaned. 

 

It was an unusually quiet and short night at camp. Once the day’s ration of food and tea were consumed, they collapsed fully clothed in their tent, resting together under an inadequate layering of blankets. Anders hadn’t even had the energy to ask her about what he had seen back before the fight with the demon, and within minutes of hitting the ground she heard his breathing deepen. She held him tightly as he dozed, realizing for the first time since their escape how desperately she missed Skyhold. She longed for the soft, warm bed in her quarters, the copper tub filled with heated water, the long, quiet nights they had spent luxuriating in each other’s arms, free of worries about people and other beasts chasing, hunting them. No need to try to ignore the blisters on their feet, their loosening clothing and perpetually growling stomachs.  
She sighed, her body aching but still too weighed down with exhaustion to bother readjusting her position. Her last thought was to wonder if it might finally be the night that Solas returned to her in her dreams.  
But it was not. Morning came entirely too early, following a cold night of fitful sleep. But as the sun rose Selise was heartened to hear the distant chorus of a songbird. Finally, they should be getting closer to the foothills, just days away from grass, and game to hunt and the possibility of a night in a real bed if they could make it to an inn. She groaned as she rolled to her side and tried to sit up. She had scarcely moved at all in the night and she felt stiff and sore. 

Anders’ bloodshot eyes were watching her as she stretched the creaks from her bones.  
“Back there… yesterday… did I see what I thought I saw?” he asked. “You and… Justice?”  
Selise nodded.  
“You took him into you? Why would you do that? Why in the Void would you do that?”  
“The drain spell in the dungeon. It happened first then. I hadn’t meant to do it. It just happened when I was trying to get rid of Vengeance,” she said.  
“But you meant to do it yesterday,” he said.  
She nodded again.  
“Please don’t do that again,” he asked quietly.  
“I might need to,” she said as she fidgeted.  
“You can’t Selise!”  
She said nothing, knowing she couldn’t make him any promises about it. They sat in silence for a stretch and then he pulled himself upright groaning with the effort and throwing off the blankets.  
“Love,” he began as he grabbed the sleeve of her coat and pulled her back into his arms.  
“Talk to me,” he asked sadly, “Where have you gone?” he asked.  
“What?”  
“You’ve been so far away… for days,” he observed sadly, “What else is there that you’re not talking to me about?”  
She looked down into her fidgeting hands. She had been quiet, but they both had.  
“Do you regret it? Coming with me?” he asked eventually.  
“Anders!” she gasped.  
His eyes were red fiery pits, his brows drawn with a worry that chafed at her.  
She laid a heavy hand over his his heart.  
“Is this why you are aching?” she asked. He only looked more confused, his brows drawing down even tighter.  
“What?” he asked.  
“I can feel it,” she told him. “I can feel everything.”  
He gave a soft confused laugh and shook his head.  
She leaned in to rest her forehead in the nook of his neck, letting herself open completely, merging with everything he felt.  
“I don’t regret it,” she said. “Of course I don’t, Anders. I do miss Skyhold… I do worry about things. But I don’t want to be there if you’re not there.”  
His arms tightened around her, pulling her into his lap.  
“Talk to me,” he whispered.  
“Anders… What do you want me to say?”  
“What are you thinking about? Why are you so quiet? Is it the book? Is it me? What is it?”  
“I don’t…. I don’t mean to worry you. I have been sort of stuck in the past a little bit lately I guess…” she said, realizing in that moment that there were a number of things she hadn’t told him about. Such as Solas.  
He sighed, laying a kiss on her temple. 

“It’s not that I mean to keep things from you Anders. I… I am not used to this. To having someone who…”  


They were interrupted by a crashing sound outside their tent. Selise scrambled to her feet first and pulled Anders up. They peeked outside the flaps of the tent and saw colorful flashes of magic, spells being thrown with such frequency that there could only be multiple casters. She felt a chill crawl up her back. Could the Inquisition have sent mages out to locate them?  
They threw their boots on and crept out of the tent, peering down into a small valley that lay below the rocky crevasse where they made their camp. Walking directly, deliberately toward them was a group of mages, led by a coffee skinned man who wore a deep blue robe. Selise could feel the magical energy growing as they approached, leaving behind them three demonic bodies dissipating in the snow. Creatures from a Fade rift.  
Her heart jumped into her throat, a growing pool of unease spreading through her.  
“Do we run?” she asked looking around at their strewn about possessions. They’d have to leave behind the tent.  
“They’ve already seen us,” Anders observed.  
“But where did they come from? There is nothing else out here. They don’t even seem to have any gear!”  
“They must have a camp close,” he whispered, grabbing her hand. “I don’t think we have any other choice but to see what they want. Whatever you do, don’t tell them who I am.”  
“What if they already know?”  
“Then you stun them and we flee. What else can we do?”  
Anders straightened his back and stepped out from behind the tent, showing himself to them. Selise stepped behind him to await their arrival, feeling her skin begin to crawl with an inexplicable dread.


	17. Chapter 17

Anders felt Selise grab his hand and lean her chest into his back.

“I don’t have a good feeling about these people,” Selise whispered, causing the hairs to stand up on the back of his neck.

The man leading the pack certainly didn’t look threatening. He walked slightly hunched over, chin down, shoulders low, and he gave a friendly nod once he got close. He wore a heavy velvet blue robe and had the dark skin of a far northerner, but flashed an easy smile that lit up his striking hazel eyes, making his face look boyish. Behind him were four others, including an elf with silver hair and black eyes, two blond women who looked strikingly similar and a thick, compact man who stood several heads shorter than the others.

“Are you with the Inquisition?” the dark man called in a pleasant tone.

Selise and Anders looked at each other, neither knowing which answer to that question was better. Finally, Selise gave a slight nod.

“We are,” Anders called back

The man laughed, looking at them out the side of his eye as they continued their slow approach. “Well good, maybe you can help us get to Skyhold then? We’ve been out here for weeks and keep running into those damn rifts,” he said.

Anders felt Selise’s grip tighten.

“We aren’t going to Skyhold,” Anders said.

The man held out his hand as he made his final steps into their camp, while the other three hung back.

“Julian,” the man said simply.

Anders paused a moment as he searched his mind for a fake name, swallowing heavily when nothing came easily.

“Luther…” he said finally as he took the man’s hand, feeling a tremendous well of magical power within his grip. His skin prickled slightly with the aura they had brought with them.

“It’s a pleasure,” Julian said with a warm smile. His eyes flicked over to Selise and he cocked his head, “my lady, there’s no need to hide behind your man here. We mean you no harm.”

Julian turned swiftly and swung his arm toward his companions. “This bunch of riff raff are just friends of mine. The elf is named Qaris, he’s not as grumpy as he looks. At least not all the time. The twins are Etienne and Millie and be grateful for any moment of quiet you get out of the two. Such as now, which is only because they’re too busy giving each other the silent treatment. And the brick house in the back is Kinley. No he’s not a dwarf, even though he looks and smells like one. He’s just short. And usually drunk.”

Anders took a deep breath and felt himself relax. At the very least these people didn’t seem interested in fighting. At least not yet.

Selise stepped out from behind Anders and held her hand out to Julian.

“Anna,” Selise said warily. Anders watched her quietly appraise them, keeping her expression placid and unreadable. But the vise-like grip she maintained on his hand betrayed her anxiety.

“So you’re… not going to Skyhold then?” Julian asked.

“Not at present,” Anders asked. “We’re…”

“On a sensitive diplomatic errand. You’ll understand if we don’t share the details,” Selise cut in.

“I see. Of course,” he said, and he laughed again, turning up his boyish smile, “You’d think you would be on the road, in a wagon or on horseback, instead of out here trudging through the snow and the rifts,” he paused, “Especially if it’s just the two of you.”

“It’s sensitive, as I said,” Selise said politely. “Why are you not on the roads yourself? Mages have been streaming into Skyhold ever since the Inquisitor offered alliance and safe harbor. The soldiers patrolling the routes are accustomed to providing assistance to the incoming groups. Most circles have been informed of this…”

Julian’s smile widened further, displaying a perfect row of pearly white teeth.

“Is that right?” he laughed. “I was not aware.”

“I assume you’re coming from Redcliffe, yes?” Selise asked.

“Redcliffe… no, in fact we’re in from Val Royeaux,” he said.

“You’re… kind of on the wrong side of the mountains for that, aren’t you?” Anders asked.

“Well we were on our way to Redcliffe… and then we heard about the alliance and we changed course,” Julian explained. “We might have gotten a little lost in the process. It certainly feels like we’ve been out here forever. We sure would appreciate any help you can provide. We’d be happy to pay you of course, or share our supplies. At least until we’re on the right track.”

“You heard about the alliance while trekking through the middle of the Frostbacks?” Selise asked warily.

“My, you really are some kind of Inquisition aren’t you? “ Julian laughed again as he glanced back to the other three. “Qaris back there told us. We met up with him on a road coming from the Dales and he’s been traveling with us since. He had a group of his own companions, but sadly lost them to a nasty old bear.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Anders said as he studied the uncharacteristically bulky elf. Like an old ghost from his past, this elf had silver hair hanging down over an ageless face. But he was no Fenris. This one stood tall and loose, his eyes smoldering black coals within a web of grey vallaslin that stretched over his brows. His nose was long and crooked from a recent break.

“Look, we really don’t mean to trouble you,” said Julian.

“The best we can do is point you in the right direction,” Selise informed him.

Julian looked quietly between the two of them, his smile frozen perfectly in place.

“Very well. May I at least invite you to our camp for a hot meal? We’re set up in a cave not far down the hill and Kinley recently caught us a nice big ram.”

“Uh… perhaps… let me consult with my… wife,” Anders said as he clutched Selise’s arm and pulled her away.

 

“He’s lying,” Selise whispered the moment they were at a good distance and she had her back to them.

“That much is clear. Can you see anything useful about them?” he asked.

“Nothing other than that we should be very careful. I did have a vision of sorts several days ago… about a cave. A cave we definitely do not want to enter. I am not sure that is related to these people though I can’t tell for sure. I think we should just tell them no thanks and be on our way.”

“Could you just… do your thing? Put them to sleep?” Anders asked.

“I could try, but I’d rather not. Mages have so much more resistance to these spells, you know that. I’d have to drain myself just to be sure, and even then who knows. I think they have some kind of a ward on them, a few of them even…. Don’t you feel it?”

“Yes, now that you mention it,” he said. That would explain some of the energy he felt hovering around the small group, he realized.

“What if they actually do have ram meat, though. I would kill for a steak,” he said, his mouth filling with saliva at the thought.

“Have you seen any rams out here?” Selise asked pointedly.

“No, but we should be close to the foothills now. That’s the direction they came from, and that’s where the rams are.”

“If they got as far as the foothills, yet learned about the alliance from a man coming from the Dales… that is a whole lot of criss crossing the mountains for no good reason. It just obviously doesn’t add up. Either they’re assuming we’re stupid, or they’re not feeling the need to try very hard to come up with something believable.”

“Or they’re just trying to think on their feet, like we are. We’re not exactly telling the truth yet we have no nefarious purpose, at least not toward fellow mages. Besides, what could possibly be the point?” he asked.

“I have no idea. That’s what is making me so nervous.”

“I think maybe we just pack up and go along… just see their camp, see if their story holds up? If not, then…

“I don’t know Anders,” she sighed.

“Aren’t you curious?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to prove their assumption that we’re stupid correct,” she said. “You’re seriously not going to trust the psychic when she tells you she has a bad feeling?”

“If things feel fishy then we just say we don’t think we have the time after all and we keep walking. What are they going to do?”

“You think it will be that easy?”

“Well it might not be, but I think we can handle it. And what if we’re completely wrong about them?”

“We’re not. They’re lying to us.”

“Yes, but we’re also lying to them. And we’re going to be doing more lying.”

“What if they recognize you?” she scowled.

“Then…. We deny. I have had to do it before… just a whole ‘oh haha, I get that all the time, I must look a lot like him’ bit,” he said, his stomach growling as his mind dwelled upon the possibility of a steak, “And then we hope to Andraste that they leave it at that. And if they don’t…”

“Our only option with them is to talk our way out of it,” she said, her face reflecting her disapproval, “If my spells don’t work, or they come up against a ward and then we will have been the ones to attack first, which is not going to make them happy. And we’re way outnumbered.”

“Selise, my love, we just have to trust each other. We’ve gotten out of tight spots before, and there is every possibility that things will be fine. Maybe we’ll really even get a hot meal out of it. Or maybe we just pack up, walk with them back to their camp and then keep going. We’d be leaving now anyway.”

“Anders…. We just need to be very careful.”

“Agreed,” he said sweetly. Her eyes were still slightly puffy from their short night’s sleep, and lined with the same rosy pink that was beginning to tint her cheeks and nose from the cold air. He picked up a rope of her hair and fingered it, feeling his heart warm as he admired her clear grey eyes.

“We still have our own discussion to finish, you know,” he said.

“Not now!” she said as her silver gaze locked onto him.

“Of course not now, silly,” he said. He hoped that he could get her to open up more, to mend whatever disconnection had developed between them. He was struck with the urge to gather her up in his arms and carry her back to the tent. A day would come, eventually, when they would be able to lay in bed together for hours the way they had at Skyhold. He hoped that day was soon. “But… don’t forget, okay?”

“Okay,” she answered as she raised a chilled hand to his cheek and gave a light caress. He turned to walk back to Julian, but felt a pull on his sleeve and he turned back to her.

“Wife?” she asked with a sheepish grin.

“That’s right,” he said, slinging an arm around her shoulders and guiding her back toward the camp, “hopefully for real someday.”

 

 

Selise walked numbly toward Julian’s camp, keeping toward the rear of the group. The two blond women whispered sharply under their breath to each other while Anders engaged Julian in conversation through most of the walk. Anders was good at turning on the charm and she knew he could gain Julian’s confidence, if that was even a possibility, so she left him to it. She had no desire to entertain anyone herself, or to come up with dishonest answers that she would have to sync up with Anders later, so she put on an air of irritability, twisting her face into a gruff scowl to discourage conversation. It wasn’t far from her true feelings either, which she realized with increasing claity as they made their way through the snowy forest. The longer she spent among them, the more she felt that it was just entirely strange even to encounter them out here. And coming straight for their camp, deliberately. Had she and Anders been followed somehow? How had they been spotted and located?

Despite her scowl, the short one and the elf continued to cast her curious glances, a few times looking as though they wanted to speak. The elf especially seemed interested in her, watching her out the corner of his eye, and keeping himself far out to the side, which she noted was the perfect position to come around and flank her if needed. Either he was expecting a fight or he was just being naturally cautious. She didn’t know which, but she didn’t sense any overt hostility. And with Julian occasionally flashing glances to him, she began to feel as though he was going through the motions, like it was simply his job. A hired hand?

The short man lumbered along, taking twice as many steps as everyone else in order to maintain the same pace, yet he did so without any indication that it tired him. He had a thick, short beard which extended his jutting chin forward to a sharp point, and a hairy neck that disappeared into a thick leather coat. He carried no staff, and exuded no energy resembling magic. She realized slowly that unlike the rest of the group, he was not a mage at all.

The two girls stayed close to Anders and Julian, their pale blond hair falling stick straight, ending in a sharp horizontal line across the center of their backs. One wore a red robe, while the other wore a set of thick leather adventurer armor. On both their backs sat black, twisted staffs capped with a jawless skull. The one in the robe swayed her hips more dramatically as she walked, and seemed to be the instigator of whatever disagreement she and the other were having.

They made their way slowly through the trees, with only Julian and Anders’ musical voices cutting through the quiet of the early morning day, though Selise continued to detect plenty of unspoken communication between everyone else. None of it raised any particular red flags, but something continued to nag at the back of her mind, sending uncomfortable shivers down her skin.

 

As they approached the cave she made note of an abundance of tracks cutting a muddy trail into and around the campsite. Anders’ pace slowed until Selise found him at her side, and he was swinging his arms as he walked, seemingly at ease after his conversation with Julian. The group dispersed, the girls disappearing into the cave while the others spread out. Selise seated herself on a nearby boulder and appraised the camp. Even without approaching the cave she could see the furthest wall within. It was small, very small, and definitely was not the cave from her vision. But still the area looked exceedingly lived in.

 

“Here we are, home sweet home!” Julian announced, “for now anyway.”

“How long have you been camped here?” Selise asked.

“Three days,” he said brightly.

“So, not in a rush to get to Skyhold then,” she observed.

“Oh we’ll get there, but we wanted to finish off the ram first, scout out the area. Build up our strength and have less to carry, especially for some of the rockier climbs that are ahead. How long have you lot been traveling?”

Selise hesitated, feeling anxious about sharing details with him that he didn’t need.

“What, is that sensitive information, too?” he teased, looking around for someone to laugh with him.

“About two weeks,” she answered flatly.

“Maker, is it really that long of a climb? No wonder the two of you are so skinny!”

Selise felt her scowl deepen. The more he spoke, the more certain she was that almost every word she heard was a lie.

“How long have you been out here in the mountains? Must be quite a while, considering you came from Val Royeaux and then backtracked to the northwest. And yet you look pretty well fed,” she asked.

“Yes, I know it seems foolish, but we’re just a band of wayward mages, ejected from the circle and trying to find a home. It’s a sad story,” he crooned wistfully, “But to answer your question, also about two weeks. And we have quite a good hunter in our party.”

His hazel eyes landed on Selise’s and he beamed a gentle smile at her. She wanted to mention the complete lack of game in the mountains, but said nothing.

“Or perhaps we just got lucky,” he added knowingly.

“He’s the hunter then?” she said looking toward Kinley, “because he’s not a mage.”

“That’s right,” he answered, tilting his head. “You are a suspicious one, aren’t you?”

“Because you’re lying,” she said sharply. At the back of the group she saw Anders step forward and try to catch her eye. She ignored him, but felt her heart begin to race. She knew she should tread carefully, but the accusatory words just came and she’d felt no compelling need to stop them.

“So are you two. Does it matter? We all have our secrets, don’t we? It doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

Anders walked through the group toward her, and she finally turned to face him. His lips were pursed into a straight line, his eyebrow crooked in disapproval.

“It’s okay,” Julian waved at Anders. “How about we all just agree not ask each other any more intrusive questions. We’ll share a meal, chat a bit, you can point us toward Skyhold and then we can all go our separate ways, yes?”

Anders looked at her expectantly, clearly biting his tongue.

“Fine,” she said, and clamped her mouth shut.

Julian nodded and retreated back to the cave, while Anders came around to join her on the boulder. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him. The rest of the group went about their business, seeming overly deliberate in pointing their attention away from her and Anders.

“Selise…”

“I know,” she cut him off, and sighed heavily. “I know. This is pointless. I don’t know why he is getting to me. If he’d just stop smiling…”

Anders let out a soft laugh. She snaked her arms around him and burrowed into his chest.

“Just give it an hour, wife,” he cooed into her ear. “And then it’ll just be me and you again.”

Selise took a deep breath. She realized that this was one of the only times he had seen her interact with other people in a capacity that didn’t include putting them to sleep, and here she was being completely unpleasant.

“Yes, I will. He’s right, too. I just can’t… I just can’t seem to ignore this feeling though Anders. I don’t think I should ignore it,” she sighed again, wishing she could put her finger on what was bothering her so intensely, “But I will give it an hour.”

“He will tell them about us when he gets to Skyhold,” Anders opined.

“Yes, he will. Hopefully by then we’ll be long clear of the mountains and on our way to Denerim.”

Anders cleared a strand of hair away from her face.

Selise’s eye was caught by one of the blond girls, the one in the red robe, watching them intently from the mouth of the cave. Selise openly stared back until the girl finally turned and slinked away.

“Maker… I’ve never seen you like this,” Anders remarked softly into her ear, his warm lips brushing her earlobe. “It’s a little scary… but I kind of like it.”

A small laugh escaped from Selise’s throat before she could stop it. She gave Anders a playful swat as she tried to pull the smile off her lips and reassert her scowl.

“Can we just get out of here?” she asked seriously.

“You really don’t like them? They seem… interesting. And so far they seem to have no idea who I am, which is a plus.”

She took a deep breath, and almost heaved. Her stomach was roiling and skin crawling. She just felt wrong, somehow. Everything felt wrong.

“Don’t you trust me?” she asked him.

“I do,” he said, and swallowed hard. “I do. We will get out of here soon, love, I promise.”

She nodded, and closed her eyes against his shoulder. She tried to clear her mind, to purge her body of all the inexplicable anxiety. With each breath she pushed the thoughts out of her mind. An hour. One hour, some food perhaps, and they would be on their way.

She felt a small ripple of magic reverberate through the air, and opened her eyes to see Qaris blasting their firepit with flames, igniting some fresh wood, while Kinley fitted hunks of frozen meat onto a few metal hooks, preparing to hang them over the fire.

She perked up briefly at the sight, and saw out the corner of her eye that Anders was staring longingly at the meat, his eyes appearing just as ravished as he felt.

He nudged her as if to say, “see?” and she nodded again.

An hour. An hour and a hot meal. She could certainly manage that.

 

 

Finally they were alone, but they had only been able to hike about two hours out before a cloud of fog rolled in, followed by fluffy clumps of snow that fell lazily from the sky. They had full bellies, finally, and for a very short time Selise felt almost giddy to be free of their strangely affecting hosts. They had thanked them graciously and went on their way, feeling that they were just as glad to be rid of her and Anders as she was them. No doubt due to her atrocious behavior, she realized. The further they got away the camp, the more Selise winced at the memory of her tone, her accusations.

“I’m not usually like that with people,” she informed Anders out of the blue.

“Like what, a feisty little tigress?” he joked.

“Rude. I’m not usually so rude. Especially when people are being hospitable.”

He was quiet for a moment. The forest had been transformed into an eerily beautiful wonderland, with only the closest trees visible and everything feeling completely silent and still. They crunched through the stillness, feeling the calm of the atmosphere sink into their bones.

“Don’t worry about it love,” Anders said, flashing her a kind smile.

“I feel like a jerk now,” she said.

“You were really feeling all that stuff though.. I could see that. Who knows what could have happened if we stayed longer. You might have been onto something,” he picked up her hand and squeezed it, “but now we won’t have to find out.”

Selise nodded. It was true. She had felt almost overwhelmed with agitation, and it only grew each time Julian spoke. It didn’t make her feel better about her rudeness, but she was only being true to her feelings. She tried to shake the memory off. It didn’t matter now. They were moving again, just the two of them.

Eventually Anders came to a stop.

“I have no idea if we’re going the right direction,” he said as he peered into the wall of fog that surrounded them. They could see maybe ten paces out, but nothing at all beyond that.

“We can’t keep going in this,” he said.

Selise looked behind them, following their footsteps with her eyes until they disappeared completely out of sight. She counted 18 steps.

They split up, hoping to find another rocky outcropping close, something that they could build a fire on, but when four separate attempts yielded nothing, Anders gave in and began setting up the tent in the snow while Selise dug down, trying to reach the ground.

When the tent was fully erected and their packs slung within, she felt Anders hand on her arm.

“We’ve eaten already. I think we can go without a fire tonight,” he said, and then his lips curled into an enticing smirk. “Besides, I’ll keep you warm.”

She dove into the tent and situated all the blankets, before sliding underneath and removing as much of her clothing as she could manage without leaving the warm nest. Anders joined her and she pawed at his coat and robe, groaning when the warmth of his bare belly slid against hers at last. She kissed him deeply, remembering those languorous kisses from back before their world was filled with cold, exhaustion and stress. His lips were less chapped now that they were no longer spending hours riding into the wind, and she sucked at the warm pillowy flesh, exploring his mouth with as much fervor as she ever had. She pulled him into her and wrapped herself around him, obeying the need in her belly to get him as close to her as possible. It wasn’t until they were deep in the middle of making love that Selise felt with a powerful surge what Anders had mentioned earlier that morning. They had been disconnected. She had been split between obeying Solas’ urging to search her past for clues, and simply trying to make it through the day. Anders was there, always right there, always ready to take her hand if she reached for him, or to stop for a momentary embrace, but she had stopped reaching for him. She’d been absorbed elsewhere.

She rolled Anders over and perched herself over him, moving her hips up and down that firm length that was filling her up so exquisitely. She kept the same pace he had set, but experimented with the capabilities of her body, letting it move against him with complete abandon. She gyrated her hips and grinded down until he began to groan, and gripped the roots of his hair as she pressed her mouth hard into his. She felt an intense need to rejoin with him in every way, as urgently and completely as possible. He responded, clawing at her back and bucking up until the cold air stung the parts of her bare body where the covers had fallen away. When she sat upright above him, the cold caused her nipples to contract in to hard little points, and Anders rose to meet her body with his, sitting up and clamping his arms around her back, warming her neck with open kisses on her breasts, shoulders and neck. She held him hard, scraping her skin against his with each movement, biting at his lips and writhing down into him, urging more moans from his throat with each thrust.

When their climax finally came, surging through her with an almost unbearable sweetness, she was looking deeply into his reddish brown eyes and holding his face in her hands.

“I love you,” she whispered before they fell back to the ground, pulling the blankets over them. She nuzzled down into his arms but kept his eyes locked into hers, holding onto that distinctive spark that she saw there.

There was still light in the sky and they talked until it was gone. She told him everything she could think of, about Solas, about her ability to feel his emotions, about the night her father and brother died. She answered every question he had in detail, drawing him into her life and her mind, until their words fell to whispers and sleep took them.

 

When she first pulled herself out of the blankets in the middle of the night, she thought maybe Solas was taking her into a dream. Maybe he was finally returning. She initially felt excited; she had so many questions. So many things she was ready to discuss. But when Anders rose alongside her and moved with a strangely slow deliberation, putting on only some pieces of his clothing while ignoring others, she knew it was not a dream. She looked down and with a confusing horror realized her hands had already been moving on their own, clumsily pulling on her boots and coat, leaving behind her chestbelt and leggings.

She tried to speak to Anders, desperate to know what was happening, but no words emerged. Her hands pressed into the ground, pushing her to a stand, and then her legs carried her outside of the tent, Anders following silently behind her. The only thing she could seem to control were her eyes, and she looked around wildly, seeing only a dim misty forest.

Her chest filled with panic that tried to bubble up into a scream, but all she heard was a small croak.

The sky was beginning to lighten, the very first kiss of the sun upon the heavens, but her feet carried her forward, through the dark of the forest, between the bare tree trunks and toward the distant shadows of five figures.

Eventually she and Anders were passed by Kinley and Qaris, who were headed beyond her and Anders toward their tent and their camp. Toward their packs, toward the book.

As Julian’s face became visible in the dim light of morning, she saw his lips curled in his ever present smile. She studied his face and his body and a muted shudder traveled up her spine, another urge to scream drowning within her as it dawned on her how she was being controlled. His hands were raised, emitting the low, slow frequencies of a dark, nauseating power. And they were blackened, stained with something shiny and tangy scented.

Into her mind jumped the vision of the cave, filled with strange ancient cages and the scent of old, putrid blood. 


	18. Chapter 18

The sky was a pale grey when they finally made their first stop. Julian brought the group to a halt and nodded to Qaris before walking away, who immediately turned and pulsed out a familiar spell. It was the paralyze spell. Qaris was a fellow entropic. His oversized black eyes studied her strangely, their colorless depths curious and searching but still lacking the hostility that she kept expecting to see there. Maybe it was the blackness. She would have thought that would make a person look homicidal regardless of their actual temper, but his only seemed deep and quiet. He was a dutiful soldier, knowing what each wordless gesture made by Julian meant and obeying unconditionally. Of the entire group, he had been the only not to have said a single word since the moment they had all met.

While under control of Julian’s blood magic she had been able to at least move her eyes, but the paralyze spell had every cell of her body except her lungs frozen into place. When Qaris slipped out of her field of vision, her ability to observe him disappeared. Had she been under her own control, she would have been fighting, with every intent to kill, maim, torture and cause the greatest amount of pain within her power. But after two hours of imprisonment within her own traitorous body, she had begun to let her eyes blur, retreating into her thoughts. She urged herself out of it, barking mentally at herself to pay attention! Take in every detail of these people possible, try to absorb every word, every telling gesture. Perhaps she couldn’t fight back now, but the time would have to come when Julian, or _someone_ , would slip up. Controlling people via blood magic took a prohibitively great store of energy, at least that is what they taught in the circle. If that was true, then he could only go on for so long. There had to be a destination in mind. There had to be a purpose to this strange forced march. And when that was revealed finally, she would fight. Of course she would fight, and so would Anders.

She tried desperately to crane her neck toward Anders even as she knew it was futile. She hadn’t been able to get a good look at him at all since they left the tent. She felt completely split in two, wanting desperately to see his face, to reassure herself that he was whole and unharmed, but also terrified to see his body being worked like a puppet just as hers was. She reached her mind out to feel him, and nothing in her emotions changed. Either they were completely in tune already, feeling the same things, or her own fear was drowning out anything else.

When Julian returned he carried a shiny blade. He approached Selise and stood before her, his smile finally gone.

“Anna, was it?” he asked. “My apologies. I thought I had enough to get you back to the cave, but I miscalculated a bit. Thank the Maker for that fog last night, huh? If not for that you would have made it much farther out and then today would have been terribly long.”

She felt a cold hand slide around her wrist, her arm jerking around as her sleeve was tugged back. And there was the slow piercing sting of the blade across her forearm followed by a spilling warmth.

“Don’t worry, there are no major blood vessels here. I do need you to stay nice and strong, for a little while longer at least.”

Anders sounded off a muffled croak and Julian’s head turned sharply.

“Don’t strain yourself over there,” he teased, flashing his pearly teeth. “On second thought, go right ahead. See what good it does you.”

A shadowy figure appeared in Selise’s peripheral vision and hovered, and she heard the tinkling and dripping of liquid falling into something metal. The person was graceful and quiet, but stayed just out of sight. It wasn’t until the figure spoke that Selise knew it was one of the girls.

“Shall we collect extra? So we don’t have to stop again?” a lilting voice asked. She sounded much younger than Selise would have originally guessed.

“We should enjoy the stops while we can my dear,” Julian crooned. “There will be far fewer of them once we set out for Skyhold.”

Julian eyed her face amusedly as he shook out her arm and then wrapped something around the gash. “I think you two will walk in front for the rest of the way. Make it a little easier on me.”

They retreated from view, leaving her and Anders standing quietly in the grey wash of wintery daylight. She felt his energy there, only a few feet away, but she could see nothing. Behind her, steps broke sharply through the icy snow, whispers twittered between girlish giggles.

 

When the magic fired back up, Selise could almost hear it; a low, whirring that felt like water filling the ears. It hit them in a wave and had she been standing of her own accord, her knees might have given out. But against everything that seemed possible, she remained standing and soon the trees before her eyes began to move, passing steadily from the landscape before her and into the hazy sea of her peripherals. A chorus of crunching footsteps replaced the whir as the group was on the move again.

 

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

 

 

“I know what you are. Why you effect the Fade as you do. It was foolish of me not to recognize it sooner,” the soft elven voice said from behind her, “Perhaps because your abilities lie dormant, completely unrecognized.”

Selise turned to face Solas, shocked to see him before her. When had she fallen asleep? Her last memory was of her head falling forward, jolting her awake as she clutched at Anders’ arm through the bars that separated their cells.

“Damnit!” she hissed as she looked around. She was out in a snowy valley, surrounded by towering pines and the jagged peaks of the Frostbacks. She began to pace, dragging her feet angrily through the shin deep snow.

She needed to wake up, immediately. She couldn’t leave Anders alone there.

Solas walked around to step before her, an eyebrow raised. He had said things that sounded important, but she’d barely heard them. Something about abilities. Something lying dormant.

“Wait, what did you say? Please say it quickly, I cannot stay here,” she said.

“You are experiencing difficulties?” he asked. “Are you in danger?”

“Yes, we’ve been captured. By blood mages. We’re being held in an old slaver cave in the mountains,” she said frantically, “I don’t know yet what they intend to do with us, but they said they were trying to get to Skyhold.”

Solas was silent for a moment, his brows furrowing into angry slashes.

“I will send help,” he said.

“Help from Skyhold you mean?” Her mind raced. Did she really want to be dragged back to Skyhold? After they had come so far? As she thought, she noticed how Solas stood weightlessly on the surface of the snow, not sinking down into it like she was. It dawned on her that if they were dreaming, she should be able to do the same. Her body was not a true physical entity, and neither was the snow. They were all in her mind. In fact, she should have complete freedom to shape everything around her. She stepped up, pulling her feet out of the cold snowpack and imagined her body lightening as she lay them back down upon the surface. She continued her pacing, stepping lightly around without leaving a mark, just as Solas was. He watched with quiet interest.

“They’ll only bring us back, won’t they? We can’t go back to Skyhold, Solas. You must know that, about… the thing we took. We’ll be prisoners there too,” she cried. “No. No help from Skyhold if that’s what that means...”

“Yes, I do know about the book,” he confirmed gently. “It is imperative that you not let it fall into their hands, Selise. I don’t disagree that there are things within the book that must be brought to light, which I assume is your purpose. But there are also things in there that could be incredibly dangerous when wielded by maleficarum,” Solas began to pace along with her, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared hard into space.

“No, this won’t do. If you insist on no soldiers I will have to find another way. Let me do some research. I will be quick,” he said.

Selise nodded gratefully and looked around again. Now, to wake herself. The thing she always struggled with when she woke within her dreams.

“You must sleep if we are to communicate, Selise. Which brings me back to what I came to tell you in the first place,” he said. She looked at him, waiting.

“You are what the Tevinters called a somniari. I am one as well. Others just call us dreamers. I should have guessed when I was unable to take you from your dream before. And now…” he said, looking down at her feet. “You take control here, too.”

“A dreamer? But everyone dreams. That is not so special.”

“No, it is not the same. Once you’ve learned to control the talent you’ll be able to enter the Fade at will, like I do. You can affect other people’s dreams. It is why you disturb the Veil around you sometimes, and what caught my interest months ago. But you have no idea that you’re doing it. You need training, practice.”

Selise stared at him dumbly. It wasn’t exactly what she expected to hear. She didn’t know how it could possibly help her with her magic, the thing they were supposed to be working on in the first place.

“Sleep. Explore your dreams. You may even be able to find me yourself, now that our minds have touched. Try if you need to, but rest assured I will return as soon as I can. But for now…. _wake up._ ”

 

Selise jumped forward, her arm banging against metal, body wracked as though it was physically impacted by the onslaught of consciousness. She turned to Anders, who was stirring from his own sleep in response to her jerking. Other eyes were upon her as well. Qaris sat on the far side of the cave, cleaning a set of blades, while the twins sat together by a fire. The scent of cooking meat wafted from their direction and Selise’s mouth automatically began to water.

Anders’ grip on her arm tightened, sounding an alarm of pain through her lacerated skin. She winced and pulled back, babying the arm that Julian had opened in order to bleed for him. Anders had inspected the cut after they were finally released from their spells and locked up, all the while muttering angry curses under his breath. The frustration and despair of not being able to heal her had been plain enough upon his face that Selise had found it difficult to look at him. But the one upside to their cells was that the flat strips of metal that made up the bars were set wide enough apart that that they could fit an arm through. They had both protested being put into separate cells, but Julian only laughed as he locked the doors behind him. So they sat upon the floor, resting against a rough cave wall, arms laced through the bars dividing them, clutching each other however they could. Anders blinked the sleep out of his eyes and she met his worried gaze.

“Why do we still have no mana?” she asked under her breath. Ever since the blood control had lifted, they had both predictably began to reach for their spells but came up empty, their attempts at casting fizzling out like trying to light a fire with no spark or fuel.

“It came from one of those girls. Mana drain, I think,” he whispered. He scanned the room, drawing his knees up to his chest and kneading nervously at the flesh of her arm. “It’s a Spirit spell. Damn it. She might as well be a blighted Templar! And where is Julian?”

“I don’t know. I fell asleep too. I didn’t mean to,” she began.

“Anders, do you know anything about something called… I think he said…somniari?”

“He? Julian?”

“Solas.”

“Solas? Right, that elf mage. Well, a little. Actually I met one once. A boy in Kirkwall named Feynriel. He was lost in the Fade and Hawke and I and few others had to go kill the demons that were holding him there so he could wake up.”

“Demons?” Selise asked, the hair on her arms standing up.

“Yes. Marethari said that the somniari are particularly attractive to demons because of their ability to enter and exit the Fade so easily. He was okay though, thanks to Hawke. He’s in Tevinter now, I think. He was trying to find someone who could help him master his abilities. Those kinds of dreamers are very rare, as far as I know. Even the Dalish could not help him. Why?”

“Well, if Solas is correct, you have met more than one. Three, in fact, if you count Solas himself.”

“What? You?” he asked, his jaw dropping.

“Apparently. I don’t know, that’s what he said just now.”

“Just now, as in, _just now_? Selise, are you sure it’s a good idea to just… I don’t know, let him in like that?” he asked, “I don’t think I like this, if he can just come and go in your mind whenever he chooses. I mean… could you block him out? Can he just see everything that’s in there? And are you sure you trust him?”

“I honestly don’t know Anders. He hasn’t given me any reason not to trust him just yet. But that is all a part of this somniari thing I guess. It’s possible that I could learn to do that too. To others,” she told him quietly. “Plus, he said he’ll try to help us with this mess… but I told him no Inquisition soldiers.”

Anders ran his hand through his hair and swallowed heavily.

“Also, did you read anything in the book about… spells that would be particularly dangerous in the hands of blood mages?”

“I saw no actual spells. But I’ve only been able to read a tiny fraction of that book so far. Maker, these fiends are going to find it. They probably already have. Maybe Julian is reading it right now. And what are they going to do to _us_? Are they just going to drain us so they can use our blood?” his whispered speech came faster and faster, his voice sounding increasingly shaky, “March us back to Skyhold like fucking puppets? And then what!? Maker. _Fuck._ No, this can’t end like this…. We’ve come too far and we’re finally so close to getting back to civilization!" he groaned, his voice turning to a hiss, "And I will NOT let them hurt you. I will bring this whole blighted mountain down if I have to.”

Anders’ arm began to vibrate within her fingers and she felt the familiar energy of Vengeance rising up within him.

“Selise… what are we going to do!?” he gasped.

For a moment she was frozen in place. What would happen if the spirit was to emerge right now? And if she were to share him again… would his connection to the Fade give them access to their magic? But only Qaris and the girls were present. Even if Julian showed and they manage to defeat them all somehow, they’d still be locked in the cage, only with no one to let them out. If they were unsuccessful then these mages would only be informed of the spirit Anders carried. Maker could only guess what they might do to him after that. And what could Vengeance do from behind bars anyway? No, this was not a good time.

“Anders, not now. You have to get him under control,” she whispered urgently. “Tell him to wait. Stop panicking, Anders, please.”

She instinctively went to access her magic, but found nothing there. Her mana was gone. Even if she wanted to disorient him, or drain him, she could do nothing.

“Anders!” she hissed, trying to keep her voice as quiet as possible. It wouldn’t do for the others to hear them calling each other different names than they had given. But Vengeance was rising, about to burst through. She saw the faint shine of blue in his eyes. What would calm him? She searched her mind desperately for an idea but without her magic she felt useless. Coming up with nothing else, she reached up to turn his head toward her, pulling it toward a gap in the bars. She pressed her lips to his, ignoring the sticky iron strips that were like ice against her cheeks. She kissed him hard, finding an opening to slip her other arm through so she could hold his face and stroke his hair. She poured as much passion into the kiss as she could, calling every ounce of his attention to her, luring him away from the precipice of hysteria.

At first he only stiffened, but when her fingers began to stroke his face, pulling lightly along the soft tendrils of his hair, she felt his body relax. She switched from trying to tease up arousal, to simply letting her touch soothe him, and within moments the vibrating energy begin to recede. His hands slid up her arm and tried habitually pull her into an embrace, but they were shackled by the wall of metal between them. She tried to block from her mind everything about their terrifying situation, the sickening smell of death that permeated the cave, the flashes of Julian’s dark smile as he commanded their bodies through the forest like marionettes. She slipped away from the present and savored the feel of his lips against hers, trying to extend every second of the kiss, just in case it really was their last. They really had no idea what they were in for. It could be the end any time, if not tonight, then soon.

“Aw, isn’t that cute,” she heard a mocking female voice utter from a distance. But Selise didn’t care. At the first opportunity, she would be sucking every ounce of life out of every one of them.

Anders pulled away from her and she relinquished the kiss reluctantly, resting her forehead against a cold metal bar.

“Thank you,” he whispered, “But are you sure that was a good idea? Maybe letting him out would help. ”

“I was thinking the same thing. But we need him to wait until the right time my love. When we are together, all of them are present, and we are not behind bars.”

He trained his gaze sharply on her and nodded. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. Like you have been about so many things.”

Sighing heavily, he dropped his head to his knees. “Is this all my fault? I shouldn’t have trusted them. And now if they get the book…”

“They could have found our camp this morning even if we had left them right away like I wanted to. All they had to do was follow our trail in the snow. But the book is another issue…”

“But we still need it!” he whispered.

She fell silent. There was nothing they could do about that anyway. Not now.

 

Their attention was caught by the rising intonations around the fire. Etienne and Millie were glaring at each other.

“That’s not what he told me!” the one in the adventurer gear cried.

“Etienne, he rarely tells you everything. You should know that by now,” the other snarled. “Face it, you’re just not as reliable.”

“Oh you think because he lets you into his bed that you’re, what, his right hand man?” Etienne laughed, “you think he’s going to bother keeping you around after he has all of Skyhold…”

“Shssssst!” Came a sharp hiss from Qaris. He glared at them as he flicked his black eyes pointedly toward Anders and Selise.

Millie stood with a huff and stomped toward the mouth of the cave, wrapping a blanket around herself and then slipping outside.

“That was our blanket,” Anders remarked, “I see they went ahead and helped themselves to our things. I wonder where the rest of it is.”

“Probably wherever Julian is,” Selise shook her head wearily and let it hang. The book was in his hands already, there was no doubt about that.

“After he has all of Skyhold what? What is he planning?” she whispered.

Anders shook his head.

“Whatever it is, he will have a lot more pull now that he has the book,” she sighed.

“We have to get it back. We have to get it back, kill these bastards and get out of here.”

Selise shivered, the chill of the cave wall and the metal bars seeped past the distraction of her anxiety and raised cold spasms that rattled her teeth. She was still missing most of her layers of clothing, wearing only the basic smallclothes and the heavy outer layer. The insulating leggings and shirts were left behind, presumably gathered up by Qaris and Kinley and stuffed into a pack. She supposed blood magicking someone into getting dressed was probably a tedious, clumsy process, necessitating shortcuts. And the cells were completely devoid of blankets or a pallet to lay upon or… anything at all other than metal and rock and a single bucket each. The memory of the morning only made her shiver harder. Anders pushed his arms further through the bars, rubbing vigorously over her back. Her eyelids were heavy, and she fought back the urge to cry. All was not lost yet, she told herself. Solas knew and would try to help them, somehow. But short of sending people out to find them, which alone could take weeks, she had no idea how. But unleashing Vengeance at just the right time just might be the answer. It was enough to hang her hopes upon, and the only thing they really had. They didn’t have their magic. They didn’t have staffs or a blade. They had only each other, and Anders’ spirit passenger. It would have to be enough. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters are coming a little slower than usual because I'm taking two condensed classes for summer semester and the homework is ridiculous.

She’d been staring into the empty cell beside her for so long that the space had become nothing more than a rectangular blur. The two days they had been held captive there felt more like weeks. What was Julian and his little group of followers doing!? If the bastards were going to take them back to Skyhold, for whatever reason, she wished they’d just get on with it. Languishing the slow hours away in a smelly, cold, uncomfortable cell was easily worse than even the hardest day she and Anders had spent on the road so far.

Anders had begun to feel it too. Deep into the second day, his eyes took on the flat listlessness she’d seen the night Cole picked the lock to his quarters. The complete lack of response to everything around them was so much scarier to her than the panic and frustration that had filled them both the first day. She didn’t know how to comfort him, what to say or do during his long hours of motionless silence. He sat limp against the wall, watching the bodies move in and out of the cave with bleary, disinterested eyes.

“I’m not doing this again,” he said eventually, after the first bristles of worry for him had already crept under her skin and settled there.

“Doing what?” she asked quietly.

“This. This will be the last time I am anyone’s prisoner. If they try to take me back to Skyhold, it will not end well and I don’t care who goes down with me,” he turned to look at her for a moment, “except for you. You will need to run Selise. If I don’t make it you still need to take the book if you can, and flee. Take it to Denerim and find the mages there. Search for a man named Corin.”

At first she could only stare at him dumbly. The possibility of leaving him behind had not even occurred to her.

“Will you do that?” he asked.

She blinked hard, her response stalled at the back of her throat. He turned his head back and stared straight ahead with wide, unfocused eyes. Was he really expecting they would be separated?

“What are you saying?” she asked incredulously. “Anders…. that is not how this is going to work. You don’t get to walk into my life and change everything, and then, what… just stop fighting? Expect me to move along while you go out by yourself in a blaze of glory?”

“It’s not like I want to, my love,” he whispered. “My whole life all I have wanted was freedom, the same rights as any other man, but… but somehow I always end up recaptured. Over and over again, no matter how many times I escape. I used to think I was good at this, but now... I don’t know. I’m so tired of being on the run. And this time I got you imprisoned too. Maker only knows what they are planning to do with us, or how many days we have left.”

“You aren’t responsible for this Anders. You didn’t force me to leave Skyhold and we don’t even know why these mages want us.”

“Didn’t do I this though? You warned me about them and I didn’t listen,” he said squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head. “Destroying the chantry has ensured that I will be a target for the rest of my life. I knew that was going to happen and I accepted it, but I honestly didn’t think I would continue on this far afterward. I thought for sure that Hawke was going to put her daggers right into my heart the moment it was all over. And she should have! Everyone was calling for it!” he said, his voice breaking. “But she didn’t. And here I am, still making a huge mess everywhere I go only now I’m dragging you down with me,” he paused again, drawing a deep, shaky breath.

“Not to mention the fact that this time…. It’s mages doing the imprisoning! Everything I have done to try to free us and yet now it is they that hold the key to my cell,” he shook his head. “AND, the bastards trap us within our own bodies. I never imagined, never had any clue how horrific that could be,” he slouched forward further.

“I shouldn’t expect anything different, I know that. But it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t bear this any more. I can’t.”

She grabbed his arm through the bars and jerked it toward her, trying to incite him to look at her. But his body was dead weight, his head rocking slightly against the wall but not turning.

“Anders, my love, now is not the time to get swallowed up in self pity. We need to stay sharp, so we can act at the first opportunity. Don’t give up on me now,” she hissed. But Anders gave no response. She stood angrily and glared down at him.

“Listen to me,” she demanded, her voice growing unintentionally sharp.

“I am. I hear you,” he said. “Selise, there are only two outcomes to this as far as I am concerned. Either I get out of here with the book, or I die trying. That’s it. If the Inquisition were to show up here right now that wouldn’t change. I’m not going back to Skyhold, not as a prisoner. That blood mage can’t actually walk us back that whole way with magic alone. There is no way he is powerful enough for that, unless he sacrifices every one of his friends along the way, and even then… why?” he paused. “No. You need to run at the first opportunity. Hand off the book in Denerim and then try to reclaim a life somewhere. Don’t let me drag you down.”

Selise paced the short length of her cell, which was only large enough for four steps before she had to turn around. She didn’t even have enough room to fume effectively. She sank back down to the ground, and drew her glare from Anders to the dim expanse of the empty cave.

“It’s too late for that,” she said. “Do not think for a moment that I am going to leave you if I have any power left in me. Anders if you run, I run. If you fight, I fight. Would I have come this far if I wasn’t prepared to go all the way?” she had asked him, struggling to soften her forceful tone. “Everything I have done for the past few months now has been for you. For us. You would have that all go to waste?” Finally he turned to meet her eyes. The depth of anguish she saw there drained the anger right out of her.

“No,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t.”

“I will not abandon you, even if you ask me to. Know that now and save us both the trouble of dealing with that foolish request again in the future.”

He sat motionless for a moment, and then slowly turned to her, leaning in to rest his head against the bars separating them. She reached through with both hands and caressed his hair, tenderly cupping his jaw and running her thumb along the lengthening bristles coating his chin. She pressed her nose into his hair and took a deep breath of his woodsy scent, running her lips lightly along his hairline.

“You are a stubborn woman,” he whispered as he dropped his forehead to rest fully against her lips. “But you’re right. We need to stay sharp. I’m just… I’m so sorry. I just can’t take much more of this. I have lost so many good years to locked rooms and prison cells. You don’t ever get used to it. If anything you get _less_ used to it. So many times now I have said the same thing… never again. And yet enough time passes and there I am again, locked up and wishing I had just let someone kill me when they had the chance.”

Selise settled her body against the bars, and held him as much as she could through the constraining metal, one hand continuing to stroke his face. She followed the outlines of his high cheek bones with her fingertips, sloping down to his strongly curved jaw, to the smooth skin of his neck, which was kissed by the ends of his silky hair. She would have given anything to be able to pull him completely into her, to cradle him with her body and help to ease away all his worries.

“I want to wish that I had never come to Skyhold, that I had never upset your whole life like this. But I can’t wish that. These last few months with you made everything that came before that worth it. But I would never have endangered you like this if I could help it. I hate myself for that.”

“I am here because of my own choices my love. And I wouldn’t do anything differently. Except maybe come to your door earlier, when I didn’t need to pick the lock,” she told him. When she glanced down at his face she was gratified to see the corner of his mouth curling into a little smile.

“Do you want to know what I like to think about?” she asked as she kissed his forehead. “The life you and I will have together when this is all over. We go to Denerim, do all the things you want to, and when we start to get tired then maybe we settle down in a little cottage somewhere far away, where there are no circles or templars and nobody could possibly know us. Preferably near some water, where we can have a dock and a little boat. We can eat fish and crabs and get a dog or two,” she said. Anders snorted.

“Just kidding, it can be a cat.”

“That’s better,” he said, his smile spreading.

“And we’ll spend all day drinking wine and making love and working in the garden,” she mused as she closed her eyes and took another deep breath of his hair.

“And we can sleep in every morning and cuddle up together and read books,” he added. “When we tire of making love anyway.”

“Which will never happen,” she shrugged. “Darn. I liked books.”

He breathed a soft laugh.

“Since no one will be around but us, there really won’t be any need to wear clothes at all most of the time,” she continued, “and that means less laundry which is always a plus.”

“How very practical,” he said.

“Right? It just makes sense. I apologize in advance for my cooking though. I am sure it’s going to start out absolutely atrocious.”

“It’s okay, you’re a quick study. We’ll be sure to keep lots of bread and cheese handy. It’s hard to screw that up.”

“Well I might find a way. But it doesn’t matter. You’ll eat whatever I make, and you'll pretend that it's wonderful because you love me so much. And I’ll keep trying until I actually get decent at it, and I'll figure out how to make all your favorite meals because I love you so much.”

“That sounds like heaven,” he said as his hands traveled up her thighs and circled her waist. “I can’t wait to get there. Can we go right now?”

 

 

But now his cell was empty. She had sensed the magic the moment it gripped him and she watched him stand, his eyes growing hard and murderous as he registered that it was happening again. Kinley unlocked his cell and lead him stiffly out of the cave. All Selise’s pleas for information went ignored, with Kinley only flashing her an annoyed stare as he walked away, leaving her the only soul left in the deep, eerie cave.

 

Four steps forward, two to the side, four steps back. Repeat, repeat. She walked where she could until it occurred to her that she needed to heed Solas’s words, she needed to experiment with whatever alleged abilities a dreamer was supposed to have. Learn her capabilities and practice. Maybe Solas had found something. Maybe he would be waiting to come to her and give her something she could use in their escape.

 

But sleep felt impossible. Shivering on the cold, hard ground, her eyes were drawn repeatedly to the emptiness of the cell beside her, just to make sure it really was as bare as her mind was telling her. Only a couple hours ago the space had housed the beloved warm body that she rested against and caressed, the man who was the only reason she didn’t freeze to death on all the long, cold nights.

Her mind just couldn’t quiet. She was filled with worry, with dreadful images of the things they might be doing to him, wherever they were. Every sound from the mouth of the cave brought her to full attention, hoping it might signal Anders’ return. But the sounds were only sticks dropped from the wind in the trees, one of the rest of the group passing by, or a rock tumbling to the ground.

After another hour Qaris entered to relight the firepit at the rear of the cave. Selise stood and pressed her face to the bars, anger rising rapidly in her throat. She could ask him where Anders was, what they were doing to him, when he’d be back, but she knew she’d get no response. Questions were pointless. The tenderness of their last moments fired up an all-consuming fury, making her ache with the desire to unleash it full force onto her captors.

“Let me out,” she snarled to the man, her eyes hardened into daggers. It was less a request than a warning.

To her surprise, Qaris turned and approached her cell, stopping just out of arms reach. His eyes flicked cautiously toward the mouth of the cave and then he pulled a slip of paper out of a coat pocket. He held it just close enough for her to grab it and then withdrew quickly. She unfurled it, brows drawn in focus.

It was a notice of a bounty, offering payment for any information regarding two fugitives matching her and Anders’ description seen fleeing the mountains. It did not give their names, and specifically said to that if they were captured, all measures should be taken to keep them alive.

“Why are you showing me this?” she asked, handing the paper back. He was overly cautious in the distance he kept, and Selise had no doubt that if she tried to make a move, his response would be fast and harsh.

“Signed by three of the advisers. You must have done something pretty serious,” he commented casually, and then a subtle change in his black eyes turned them serious and hard.

“Julians’s going to use you to get into Skyhold, but he doesn’t care about the bounty. Only getting a private meeting with the Inquisitor,” the elf said. “That can’t happen, unless you would see this land ruled by a bloodthirsty Tevinter.”

The words jolted her. She blinked at him in disbelief that he seemed to be offering her such confidence. It only made her more curious about Julian’s plan. A Tevinter? Was he planning on turning the Inquisitor into his puppet too? Qaris turned to walk away. Desperate for more information, Selise called, “Wait! What is he doing to Anders? Why has he taken him?”

He turned back to face her, large black eyes gaping wide.

Selise winced hard, instantly wishing she could pull the words back in.

“Anders?” he asked, repeating the name slowly. “… _the_ Anders?”

She dropped her face into her hands, wanting to bang her head against the bars. _Stupid!_

“No..no. Please, I didn’t mean to… Please don’t tell anyone else. It’s not really relevant anyway, is it?”

“Depends. Is that why you’re wanted?” Qaris asked. Selise bit her tongue. Did he not know about the book? How could that be possible?

She said nothing. She had already said too much already. He might not want Julian to get to the Inquisitor, but that did not mean he was on her side.

He turned again and strode quickly out the mouth of the cave and Selise crumpled to the floor.

 

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

 

Another cell, another cave. There must have been a whole system of them out there, just like the ones at the Wounded Coast. Anders almost would have preferred being tortured or interrogated to simply being dropped alone into yet another cell. At least then he’d know that he was going to be returned to Selise’s side. But there was no indication that this was anything other than his new quarters. It made sense to keep them separated. It would be the first step to demoralizing them, breaking them down so they’d be more obedient. Anders was well acquainted with these types of tactics; templars had practiced the same types of tricks on him and his friends in the circle for years. And now Julian and his followers could do whatever they wanted to her, and he’d be none the wiser. He knocked his head back against the wall and flashed another hateful glare toward the two blond girls who were observing him amusedly.

“You look so familiar,” the girl on the left said as she squinted her dark blue eyes and ran them up and down his body. Anders looked away from her, allowing his hair to fall down into his face, hoping it would obscure it enough to keep her notice from blossoming into full recognition. All those damn posters Sebastian had been plastering all over southern Thedas for years had made his face well known, even to people who didn't really remember why. Anders sighed.

“Just tell us why you’re wanted. You two must have done something bad…” the girl on the right smirked. He had forgotten which of them was which. Was it Etienne who wore the robe and not the leathers? Or was it Millie? He had been waiting until one of them spoke the other’s name, but after almost an hour under their scrutiny neither of them had even come close. He supposed that might be a twin thing. Perhaps they didn’t need to address each other by name. Why would they?

One of the girls had the spirit magic that included a mana drain, but even who that belonged to was a mystery.

“It couldn’t have been that bad if they want them alive.”

“You never know. Maybe they just want to be the ones to torture them,” the girl on the right said. The one in the robe. He was thankful that at least they chose different gear. Even their voices were so alike it would have been impossible to tell them apart otherwise.

“The Inquisition is too goody-goody to torture,” said the girl in the armor.

“How do you know? You don’t know anything about them.”

“I probably know more than you do.”

“And how is that? You haven’t been anywhere I haven’t been.”

“Because I don’t spend all my time fawning over my own reflection like you do. I actually pay attention to things,” said the girl in the armor.

“You do not…”

Anders rolled his eyes back into his head and tried to block out their bickering. The girl in the robe, the one supposedly sleeping with Julian, did carry herself with noticeably more conceit and self-awareness than the other. She played with her hair often, raking her fingers through it until every strand was perfectly combed into place, and then tossing it about. Presumably to affect some kind of unintentional-looking wildness that was in fact very carefully calculated. When Julian was around, her preening got worse, and was so tediously transparent. The other twin seemed almost the opposite, her hair looking like it badly needed a good combing. No doubt she was trying to avoid cultivating any additional similarities to her sister.

He closed his eyes and conjured up the picture of the cottage by the water that Selise had drawn for him. He marveled at her ability to pull him out of even his deepest misery, something he had struggled with since his adolescence, starting with his separation from Karl in the circle, and then exploding into something genuinely frightening during his year in solitary confinement. From then on he seemed to carry around this black vacuum that could go for months or even years unnoticed, and then it would suddenly open up and swallow him. His recent years on the run, dealing with constant hatred, guilt and loneliness had only made it a place he visited more and more often.

He was tired. He still had a good two decades left before the real Calling should begin, and he wasn’t even close to the midpoint of the lifespan of a normal man, yet he had begun to feel so weary, right down into the depths of his soul. Once the book, or the information it contained, was passed along to people who could put it to use, maybe it really was time to bow out of the fight. Now that Selise had put this idea in his head of the two of them living quietly in the country, he could think of nothing he wanted more. To sleep peacefully in her arms every night, feet warmed by a purring little friend, days quiet and full of love, sunshine and laughter… it was exactly everything he had fought for. He had done what he could to help bring about the possibility of a free, peaceful life for other mages, surely it wasn’t a betrayal of his cause to want the same for himself?

But for that to become a reality, they would need to get out of the clutches of these fiends.

 

It occurred to him that the longer the girls were occupied and not thinking about keeping up on the mana drain spell, the better chance Selise had of getting some of her mana back. Not that she hadn’t made a very valid point about needing not to be locked in a cage when the time came to kill everyone. Starving slowly, forgotten in a cold cell, was unquestionably a death worth avoiding. Someone would need to be able to open the locks or killing the blood mages was a death sentence to themselves as well.

Still, the possibility of Selise seeing a little bit of her mana return was more than they’d had to work with yet. She was smart. If there was something that could be figured out, she would. He would need to engage the girls, keep them occupied for as long as he could. Distract them. Or something. Anything. He opened his eyes and trained them on the two blond vipers.

He stood and approached the bars closest to the girls and they immediately ceased their arguing, watching him warily with big blue eyes.

“So I just have to ask. What would cause such pretty girls like you to join up with a crazy blood mage?” he asked them.

“He speaks,” observed the one in the leathers.

“Julian isn’t crazy,” the one in the robe said.

“Oh so he’s perfectly sane, but just evil?” he asked. “That’s even worse. At least if he was crazy he’d have an excuse.”

They looked quietly to each other, having what appeared to be a very nuanced mental conversation among themselves.

“Pardon my poor manners, but I seem to have forgotten which one of you is which.”

“Etienne,” said the girl in the leather.

“So then you’re Millie,” he nodded to the other girl. “Are you also from Val Royeaux? Funny, none of you have the accent that you usually hear…”

They looked at each other again.

“No, we’re Fereldan,” Millie answered, but didn’t offer any more information.

He zeroed in on the girl with the leathers. She looked as though she felt a little lost within her sister’s shadow, at least that certainly seemed to be the case when it came to Julian. Did they both desire him? And yet only one had apparently been invited into his bed. This rejection might make her more vulnerable to flattery. Or perhaps he should just make a move to grab one of them. He'd need to improvise _something_. His mind went to Selise, to her clear grey eyes, to her hungry mouth and soft curves. Again he took himself mentally to the cottage in the country, and he felt his resolve harden to steel. He would do whatever needed to be done.

He looked Etienne up and down, studying the details on her leathers, looking for some bit of personalization that he could hone in on.

“That’s a beautiful necklace you have,” he said pleasantly as he eyed the milky blue lapis lazuli pendant that hung from a short chain around her neck. “It accentuates the lovely blue of your eyes. Is that sapphire?”

She reached a hand to her throat self-consciously and began fingering the crystal amulet.

“My mother had a gorgeous sapphire ring. I always hoped I might be able to give it to my wife someday, but…”

“It’s not sapphire. It’s lapis lazuli,” Millie interjected haughtily.

“Are you sure about that? Because my mothers looked exactly like that and she…”

“We’re sure,” she cut in again.

“I don’t know… she had the ring appraised by a dwarven jeweler. They tend to know their stuff,” he laughed.

“We’re sure. This has been in our family for three generations. I think we’d know.”

“But it’s too clear to be lapis. No, I think you’re mistaken. That’s definitely sapphire.”

“No, you’re the one who’s mistaken. And this isn’t clear at all, it’s completely cloudy,” she stated. Anders could see that she was beginning to get frustrated.

“Can I get a better look at it?” he asked, and she stood, inching closer to the bars of the cell. He squinted, acting as though he couldn’t quite tell what he was looking at. The moment she appeared to be even slightly within reach, his arm surged out like a striking snake, connecting with a handful of thin blond hair and yanking hard enough that the metal bars sung with the reverberations made by the impact of her head. He held back a laugh at how easy it had been. He reached his other arm through the bars and wrapped an icy hand firmly around her throat.

 


	20. Chapter 20

Etienne’s body began to sag under his grasp and he realized her head must have hit the bars hard enough to knock her a little senseless. He released her hair and grabbed the back of her leathers, trying to keep her body from sliding more toward the ground. He felt her throat constricting under his palm, her pulsing heartbeat coming hard at her jugular. Millie had jumped her to feet, letting out a horrified gasp and immediately powering up a destruction spell, but Anders ducked behind Etienne’s body, keeping her between himself and the panicking Millie.

The cave echoed with shrill screeches as Millie began calling for help. Anders thought wildly about what to do next. His heart was in his throat, adrenaline soaring through his veins.

“Let me out,” he called to Millie, though his words drowned in the echoes of her shrieks. “Just let us go and I won’t hurt her! All we want is to be on our way.”

Heavy footsteps crunched into the cave, and Anders left his crouch to peer over the girl’s shoulder. The short, burly man was taking fast, aggressive strides directly toward them. The girl gasping under his hand began recovering enough to claw at the back of his hand, trying to wrench her sharp-nailed fingers underneath his palm. He searched deep within himself and found the tiniest film of mana. But what could he do with a supply so small? Before he could even complete the thought, a percussive pulse of magic burst into him and erased what little mana he was reaching for. But it let him know that he held the right girl. If he could do nothing else, he could keep this girl from going back to Selise and casting the mana drain on her too. Three hours is how long it had normally lasted, much more than Anders would have expected, but it had already been over two since her last application. If he had gotten that slight film of mana back by then, then it was only a matter of time for Selise. He just had to wait.

Or, he could just kill the girl, he realized. Once she was dead, Julian lost his little mage handler permanently.

The heavy shuffling of boots on the rocky floor signaled Kinley’s arrival to Etienne’s side. Solid, meaty hands joined Etienne’s in an attempt to pry her free, but Anders bared down, digging his fingertips as deeply into her throat as he could, inciting rollicking spasms to course through the girl. The adrenaline empowered him, drowning out the ache in his forearms from the effort of resisting Kinley and Etienne’s revolt. And then a searing pain sliced through his racing thoughts, caused apparently by the hacking blade of a knife along the outside of Anders’ hand. Giving up the attempt to pull Anders' hand free, Kinley had apparently decided to cut away his strength. Anders cried out harshly at the attack, hearing the screech of pain in his own ears as though it belonged to someone else. This would have to be it, he realized. Either he take her life while he still had the chance, or she would be freed. He couldn’t risk that. Her body jerked as her feet kicked outward, and he felt her jaw open as tried to gasp for breath, obscuring Kinley’s access to Anders’ flesh.

“Go get Julian!” the short man barked at Millie. After a pregnant pause, her footsteps scrambled toward the mouth of the cave.

Anders stood tall again, knowing the man was no mage and could not throw spells his way. He released Etienne’s leathers and reached around her head, trying to connect his fist with Kinley, but between the blond head obstructing his view and Kinley’s surprisingly quick reflexes his blows all fell fruitlessly through open air. He changed tactics, swatting at the knife that dug into his hand, finding the bones of a bulky wrist. Anders grabbed on and tried to wrench the wrist back, but Kinley held himself solidly into place. He squeezed harder, beginning to see the white sparks of scalding pain before his eyes as the blade sliced away tissues and hit upon bare nerves. From deep inside of him came the low, threatening vibrations of Justice. He tried to hold him off, at least until the girl was dealt with. He couldn’t give up control while in the middle of a fight. He had no doubt that Kinley would jump on any second of hesitation. A transition to Justice now could ruin everything.

Anders struggled to keep his grip tight as her body thrashed, but he felt her fingers working their way under his palm. It seemed his grip was loosening as the blade sliced through tendon and tissue and he began to panic. If he failed now, he might not get another opportunity. Anders dropped Kinley’s wrist and tried to work his second hand around to support his grip on her neck, but only encountered Etienne’s claws, digging their own way into his flesh. Anders felt the strength in his grip begin to fade, and realized with fear how close his hand was to being rendered useless. But the girl still thrashed, clinging desperately to the last vestiges of life within her. Anders cringed as the blade scraped sickeningly between the long bones that connected to his fingers, and in a flash he knew what he needed to do.

Pulling his good hand free he jabbed stiff fingers downward, straight into the soft bulbs of Kinley’s brown eyes. Kinley screeched in pain and the instant he began to respond to his own injury, Anders pulled his arm back with a jerk and pounded the pommel of the knife, pushing the blade between the bones of his hand and embedding it deep into the soft flesh of the neck beneath.

The girl choked and spasmed, warm blood spilling out of her, mingling with his own open wounds and flooding to the rocky ground.

As Kinley growled and staggered blindly, Anders grasped the handle of the dagger and pulled it free, releasing his hand from Etienne’s spurting neck with a wet, sticky slurp.

 

The blond girl collapsed to the ground and Anders took a step back, holding the bloodied knife in his good hand. Justice’s low buzz remained lying in wait but there was still no time. Julian would be coming any moment and he needed to figure out his next move, and fast. He looked down at the crimson drenched knife and realized it would soon be useless… as soon as Julian returned and put him back under his blood spell, he would have no control anyway.

Flying forward on impulse alone, Anders lunged his good arm back between the bars of the cell, stabbing through the air toward a still recovering Kinley. But the man’s body remained just beyond reach of the blade. Kinley looked up briefly, blinking tears out of his good eye enough to take a few more steps back, staggering further out of range. Anders took a deep breath to steady himself, lined up the dagger and threw it with all the force he could muster. His own body fell forward with the effort, crashing hard into the bars of the cage. But he remained upright enough to see the moment the knife lodged itself into the man’s chest. It didn’t go deep, with half the blade still exposed. But it seemed to be enough. Kinley’s backward steps got sloppy, his feet scraping heavily across the gravel. After retreating into the center of the cave, he crashed heavily to the ground with a groan.

 

The moment of silence that followed roared through Anders’ ears. He pushed himself away from the metal bars and clutched at his throbbing hand, peering down to survey the damage. The flesh was a pulpy mess, with exposed nerves screaming, tubes of a yellowy white blinking out from between streams of flowing blood. He pulled his tunic out from under his leather coat and yanked free a strip of fabric, wrapping it tightly around his destroyed hand and quickly found himself doubled over, squeezing his wrist in an attempt to stifle the shoots of pain that traveled up to the base of his skull.

He clenched his teeth and stifled a scream, hoping desperately that he could make it the three hours until his mana returned. A dumbing fog of pain filled his mind and he tried to correct his thoughts. Yes he needed to last the three hours, but first he needed to manage not to be killed by Julian and the other two. Most especially, he hoped they would spare Selise of any retaliation. He cringed again, knowing that was practically an impossibility.

 

The crunching of footsteps appeared, growing louder until three more bodies entered the cave, their eyes wide with disbelief as they took in the bloody scene. Anders stood hunched at the center of his cell, cradling his bloody appendage and glaring out from under fallen strands of golden hair.

 

The ever-present glint in Julian’s eye died and he walked toward Anders’ cell with his face screwed into an expression of pure malice. Millie flew forward and collapsed onto the body of her sister, gathering the dead girl up into her arms, guttural sobs escaping her throat. Her red robe grew dark with the stains of blood.

“Kinley’s still alive!” Qaris called out. Julian tilted his head with interest and turned toward the flattened body. The room began to pulse with the low throb of blood magic and a vigorous pulling motion of his dark skinned hands cut through the air to unleash a river of blood, streaming from Kinley’s stocky frame and into the air, surrounding Julian in a crimson tornado. The red streaks dissipated before their eyes, the thrum in the air increasing in intensity as the blood converted to pure power.

Anders braced himself, and considered teasing Justice upward, allowing him to finish his attempt to take control. But a nagging voice in the back of his mind brought him to a halt. What was it Selise had said? Justice was the one card they had up their sleeve, and they needed to be free of their cage and together. It needed to be precisely the right moment. And for whatever moment this could be now, he was still locked in a cage. What could Justice accomplish from behind metal bars?

Anders watched as Julian’s expression changed again, his lips curling darkly.

“Qaris, Millie. Let’s go,” he commanded, with the leisurely tone of a man completely confident that his word would be followed. And it was. Millie rose like a ghost, letting her sister’s body fall out of her arms as she glared a hateful snarl at Anders. But she made no move for the staff on her back, and only turned to join Julian obediently. A sharp pulse of energy from her chilled him to the bone. Mana drain, again. Had he been mistaken before about Etienne casting the spell on him? No, he was sure he had felt it coming directly from the girl within his grasp.

There was only one explanation. They were both capable of it.

Anders had to fight the buckling of his knees, the desire to crumble to the ground. This didn’t mean defeat, he told himself. He had still taken out two of their group.

He held himself in place, bracing for a last minute backlash, but Julian only continued his slow steps out of the cave. They didn’t even seem interested in collecting the bodies.

Once again it was quiet. If Kinley had lived just moments ago, he did no longer.

Anders’ chest heaved, bringing in deep gulps of tangy air and he tried to hold himself steady. But the world around him moved of its own accord, and he felt the rear wall of his cell crash into his back. He slid to the cave floor feeling the shaky, light headedness of blood loss. While an injury to the wrist never spurted blood like a true artery, it still contained a dense networking of blood vessels. Given a bad enough mangling and a lack of proper care, a person could still bleed out completely.

Anders crawled forward on his knees, making his way to the pale blond figure still splayed before his cell. With his one hand he loosened the belt around the girl’s leather breeches and pulled it into him. Threading the strap through the buckle, Anders slid the loop around his throbbing hand until the leather rested upon the muscle of his lower forearm and pulled tight.

He scooted his body back to rest against the wall. Black splotches edged around his vision, but adrenaline still coursed through him, powering the shakes that stung through his throbbing hand.

For the first time that Anders could remember, he began to pray. To the Maker, to Andraste, to anyone who might be listening. Just don’t let him hurt Selise, he begged. Just don’t let him hurt Selise.

 

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

 

Selise jumped awake, startled from her fitful sleep by what sounded like a very impassioned discussion coming from just beyond the mouth of the cave. But the actual words being spoken were all just outside the reach of her comprehension. Glowing in from the cave's entrance came the dim light of morning and her eyes confirmed her fears: the cell beside her remained empty.

She pulled herself upright and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself as her only defense against the cold. Only moments after the murmurs died, the dark shadow of Julian entered the cave and Selise stood, hoping to see Anders’ silhouette following behind him. But only Qaris and Millie appeared. Selise shifted her weight angrily on her feet, impatient with whatever it was that they were pulling. Why had they kept him all night? What manner of evils were they inflicting upon him?

“Where is he?” she asked.

Even in the dim light Selise could see that Millie’s face looked blotchy, her eyes slightly swollen. The girl quickly cast the mana drain spell, and then hiccuped a little sob. She followed the two men like an apparition, her shoulders slouched forward and hands dangling ineffectively at her sides. Selise watched her closely. Why would she have been crying? Some lovers quarrel with Julian? If that were true, it must have been a considerably devastating one.

When Julian approached her cell, Selise pressed her back into the rocky wall behind her, trying to keep as much space between them as possible. He carried the energy of his blood magic with him, already activated and pooled in ready access at the tips of his fingers. It hit her like a wall of bricks, amplified and powerful and her stomach lurched in response.

“Where is he!?” she repeated.

“Luther will no longer be accompanying us to Skyhold,” Julian said.

Selise felt the ground fall out from under her and bile rise in the back of her throat. She had been holding onto the hope that their separation was temporary, that it would soon be ended. They were wanted together, not individually, weren’t they? If the plan was to take them back to Skyhold, why only one at a time?

“Why?” she asked, her shaky voice but a croak.

“It’s not important. It will just be the four of us now, which I actually think will allow us to move much more quickly,” he said as he flashed a satisfied little smile.

“You have to appreciate the small things in life, right?” he asked as he turned back to his crew. “There is always a silver lining.”

He flashed her a wide smile, his teeth practically glowing in the dark of the cave.

Calling him Luther meant Qaris hadn’t revealed Anders’ identity yet. But still, why would he be left behind? Selise rubbed the tension out of her brow and tried to clear the fog of sleep from her mind.

 

She knew it was coming before she saw his hands raise. The magic crept over her body, holding her limbs stock still and sliding like ice water up her spine. She watched as Julian pulled a bulky metal key from his belt and unlocked the door. For the first time she wondered how exactly it was that he had come across a key in the first place. These caves were old and the metal strips that made up the rudimentary bars had clearly been made by a metalworker of only basic skill. She wouldn’t have been surprised if the caves had been in use hundreds of years ago. How is it that a key survived? The door opened and she felt her legs begin to move, making clumsy steps toward the three shadow figures.

Despite being trapped in her body, when she reached her mind out for Anders’ energy, she found it. It wasn’t far and it wasn’t panicked, his emotions dulled and reflecting the particular patterns of sleep. Or unconsciousness, she realized. She savored the warm sensation of him, even if it only rippled intuitively through something unnameable and insubstantial within her. She wished she could reach out and grab it, could grab him. A day in his absence, stuck in this strange, dreadful place alone had fired up a desperation for him that infected every cell in her body. She ached to have him back at her side, even if separated by bars. It was still a far kinder existence than being left to wonder, her imagination filling in all the empty space with horrific visions. But still, feeling him then eased her mind slightly. He was alive.

Her feet carried her out into the deep blue morning, and she cast her eyes toward the pile of packs and supplies sitting in the snow. Qaris slung her old pack onto her back, securing the shoulder straps over her chest with thin strips of leather. As his fingers worked, his eyes met hers momentarily and flashed her a confusingly troubled look. A shiver of fear joined the chill of cold that was seeping through the seams of her leathers.

Qaris. Qaris had shared a small bit of information with her, and so far had kept the secret of Anders’ identity. There had been no sign of Solas during the night, despite her attempts at searching her dream world for something that might feel like a doorway or a transition to another plane, so she had nothing else to grasp onto. But to what extent might Qaris help her? He wanted to keep Julian from the Inquisitor, but that was the beginning and end of her information.

They were clearly about to walk, beginning their journey to Skyhold, while Anders, Kinley and Etienne were left behind. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that it could make a bit of sense. A smaller group definitely would move more quickly, and it might even give Julian more bargaining power if he kept an ace in his pocket. 

She hoped that’s all he was doing.

But even that didn’t matter. She was going to get back to Anders, no matter what it took, just as she had told him she would.

 

 

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole 'psychics can't read people close to them' thing is apparently a real thing. I have heard of at least two supposed psychics (one was Sylvia Browne, one was, I think, Edgar Cayce?) claiming this fact when asked about whether or not they can tip off all their loved ones about things that are going to happen to them, or things like lottery numbers and such. So I didn't make that part up completely. :)
> 
> P.s., sorry for the delay -- I was out of town for a week and gave myself a little break, plus I am trying to finish an update of one of the other fics. Thanks from the bottom of my heart to those of you still sticking with me! <3

  
All Selise could think about as her body trudged along without her consent was the myriad ways she was going to make her traveling companions suffer. When the opportunity came to strike back at their captors, she was going to do more than just jump on it. She was going to _enjoy_ it. It may have sickened her before to listen to the dying heartbeats of her victims, but with each cocky smile that Julian flashed in her direction, she found herself anticipating more and more counting every last breath he took until his very last.

And Anders. Her beautiful, unexpected Anders. She would unleash him and watch him rain pain down upon their heads like the Master of destruction that he had shown himself to be. Together, Julian’s plans to… whatever he planned to do, would die along with him. Preferably a messy, painful, satisfying death.

Qaris was still a mystery, as was his eventual fate at Selise’s hands. He was a possible exception, but even that remained to be seen. But Millie, Etienne and Kinley would all beg her for their death before she finally snuffed them out. She promised herself that.

For now she was powerless. Drained and walked step by step like some kind of fucking wind up doll, caused the birth of a million hateful, evil thoughts directed at the bodies only feet away. Each step forward, each step away from Anders, just after she had made promises that she would never leave him, never abandon him, was a betrayal to her love and to her self. A betrayal she had no hand in, yet there she was. Walking away and leaving him further and further behind.  
Her resentment boiled and streamed like acid within her veins. They would pay. She didn’t know how, but she knew it with a certainty matched only by her love for the man left back at the cave. These blighters would pay with every last cell.

Sleep. She needed to sleep. If her explorations thus far had yielded nothing, perhaps the sheer energy of her blistering rage could thrust her into a new discovery. Nothing seemed to work better than a torrent of emotion for making things happen. If Justice was seeking anger, he would love to get his hands on her now.

She felt the slight prickle of energy before anyone else seemed to. The Fade was open somewhere close by, another rift for certain. It had been inevitable, stumbling about out here. And what would they do with her if they all felt the need to fight?  
Julian paused after a dozen more steps, finally sensing the rift himself, the decision to fight or flee warring visibly in his mind. After a quick survey of their surroundings, he ordered everyone to run. Selise was sure it was probably because he couldn’t hold her in place with his mind, and fight at the same time. Nor could he use her body to fight alongside himself, or leave her incapacitated as easy prey for any of the creatures that spilled from the rift. The hesitance was enough to reveal Julian’s lack of achievement — or perhaps sheer mediocrity — with the blood magic he wielded. She had heard tales of many a powerful mage, able to control and possess not only the bodies of others, but also their minds. And as of yet, her mind remained untouched. She laughed inwardly. It seemed incredibly possible that this man was merely a one trick pony.

  
On they went in their attempts to run, and the extra energy they put into trying to hasten their speed didn’t seem to make them move any faster in the shin-deep snow. Selise didn’t have to work her body but she felt the strain of it all the same. Her feet and knees ached and she was sure the straps holding the pack onto her had long been grinding away at her flesh even through her leathers. What had probably started out as blisters now felt raw and stripped. Only her rage cut through the pain, keeping her from feeling like a stranger within herself.

  
How could she sleep in the middle of such circumstances? And what should she seek once she achieved unconsciousness? Solas wouldn’t be asleep in the middle of the day, but maybe she could try again to reach out, to someone, anyone. She was supposed to be able to enter the Fade, at least that is what Solas had said. And what would that accomplish? Would it give her back her magic? Mana itself came directly from the Fade after all. She would find out soon, of that she was sure.  
But Julian had been a tenacious traveler, stopping little even to eat, and rarely ever addressing his crew. Qaris soldiered along as he had since the first day, and Millie might as well have been blood magicked herself. On a few occasions she cast wounded eyes back toward Selise but then looked away just as quickly. Selise glared back with all her might, but the daggers she threw with her eyes did not seem to land. Between Millie’s melancholy and Qaris’s strange looks, she began to suspect that something important had happened back at the other cave. But no one was speaking about it.  
Oh how she wished she could control her sight. Whatever had occurred had not shown up at all on her radar beyond an increase of the sickened feeling that she had already been carrying since the morning Julian appeared. How was it that she could lose all sight connected to the most important person in her life? It felt like the biggest possible betrayal of her supposed gift.

  
She closed her eyes and tried to leave her body, let it march on without her, but they were moving with such exertion trying to outrun the reaches of the rift, that she couldn’t be anywhere other than present. Her heart and lungs responded to the forced march of her limbs, straining to provide blood and oxygen to her furthest reaches, and making her gasp against an unresponsive ribcage for breath. A distant shriek sounded over a large hill and her body jerked into a new trajectory, trying to elude whatever creature made the noise.  
_Come and get us,_ she called silently, opening her mind as wide as she was able to the energies around them. The whispers of demons on the other side of the veil were like a hot, putrid breath in her ears.

And come they did. Several stinking bodies lumbered over a hill toward them, moving their unnaturally long limbs more quickly than they had any right to. While Selise couldn’t smile with her whole face, the satisfaction still rang loud within her.

  
_Come and get us you Fucks!_ She screeched within the confines of her mind. She looked expectantly to Julian, daring him to release her of her magical bonds. But instead of attempting to make her fight, a nod to Qaris had blood magic replaced by a cocoon of entropic paralysis.  
The demon’s attacks came fast and heavy and she stood in place, an easy target, kept off to the side and adjacent to a large towering rock. Qaris did his best to defend her, dancing around her while flinging fiery streaks of power that melted snow and blackened tree trunks, while Julian and Millie tried to lead the demons away. The scent of magic and the whir of motion filled the air in a spine tingling display, but still she was pursued, her silent voice seemingly heard and located. She continued to call to them, feeling the thin rippling of the Fade around her. What was it Solas had said the first time they met? Her very presence disturbs the Fade somehow?

  
The first impact to her body came quickly, a burst of fade drenched plasma that hit like a boulder to the chest, knocking the breath out of her and making her ribs clench painfully down. But she blinked away the tears, her throat trying to squeak out a groan as she waited for the pain to pass. That was a good attempt, but it wasn’t what she was after. If she couldn’t sleep willingly, she could court unconsciousness in other ways.

  
One of the demons, another of the long legged ones, seemed to be jumping from place to place within his own little Fade rips, coming up just under Julian and Millie, throwing them violently back. Selise focused on it, yelling silently for attention, sending an entreaty through her tenuous grasp of the Fade. Somniari were supposed to be particularly attractive to demons, and with all the energy she could gather in her mind she sent it what felt like a promise. A promise of success and easy prey, of bargains made, if only it would come and level one perfect blow. On several occasions she was sure it locked its eyes upon her, or what she assumed must have been its eyes, and she hoped that it had heard.  
When it disappeared again, sucked into a greenish imprint left sparkling over the snow, she fought the urge to brace herself, even if it could have done any good with her useless muscles. The rock behind her would provide a perfect place to crack her head, sending her mind reeling from reality and plunged mercifully into a place of dreams. Could Julian still control her while she was unconscious? She was pretty sure that he could. It wouldn’t matter much to him where her mind went, as long as her body and heart remained full of flowing blood.  
The ground below her feet buzzed for a mere second before her body went weightless, catapulted backward just as she had sought. Whether it heard her calls or not didn’t matter, all that mattered was the thud of impact and the blackness which enveloped her mind.

At first she felt the same as she had as a child, when she and her friends would spin themselves around as fast and as long as they could, only to try to stay on their feet once their bodies stopped but the world didn’t. Her body had ceased falling once it had hit the ground, but her mind continued to fly through space, all surrounding existence spinning wildly out of her control. She would have to land somewhere, would have to gain a foothold of control if she was going to make any progress. She felt the urge to take a deep breath, and quickly reminded herself that she was not there physically. She tried it anyway, only out of a desire for something comforting, and even felt what seemed to be air entering her lungs. But it was not air. It was merely wisps of a dream.

  
Solas. Her mind had already touched his, and she trained her powers on the memory of him, trying to realign herself with the strange, indecipherable energy he transmitted. She grasped out into the void blindly, seeking the call of his familiar voice. But nothing came. She stretched and stretched, sending her mind in the direction she knew Skyhold to be. But she felt only a persistent expanse of silence.

  
With a surreal _whump_ , the spinning stopped. Her efforts to focus on Solas seemed to work to bring her mind right. And why wouldn’t it? She was in complete control here. She could shape the space around her to her own desires and needs.  
And what she desired most at that particular moment was death. Blood. Freedom. To be heard.  
Around her were the whispers of the demons who offered her desire. Pride caressed the back of her ear, filling her mind with visions of power. For a brief moment Julian’s face appeared before her, his cheeks wet with tears and eyes pleading for mercy. In the distance stood Leliana, Fiona and the Inquisitor, nodding their approval, ready to offer rewards untold for the capture of the blood mage who had plans to possess the Inquisitor.

  
Shimmying over every bare expanse of skin came the lover’s caress of Desire. She saw Anders’ warm brown eyes looking at her as though she were the only woman in the world. He looked at her like that any way, but that could be because, for him, she actually was the only woman? The only one he had really been allowed to see, to talk to. Could she have been anyone and the result had been the same? You lock two people into the same quarters and eventually, attraction happens, right? She shook the eddy of doubt from her mind, but it was too late. Pride and Desire had already sensed her weakness.  
She squeezed her eyes closed and tried to take another deep, steadying breath, but the visions swimming before her eyes went unchanged. Pride and Desire slithered over her mind, working in tandem to tease out insecurities, ones she pressed consciously down and one she didn’t even know she had, offering to her numerous versions of the perfect antidote.

  
Anders. He’d had a long life before she came along. He’d known and loved his share of women, and men. He’d had _Hawke_ of all people, for a time at least. Selise’s experience, her knowledge, paled in comparison to his. She knew nothing about life, not for real. But she was a willing body with a few useful talents, who had sworn to aid his plans and be his protector. What would become of his feelings for her if those things all disappeared? Would he still care? Would he still look at her like she was the only woman in the world when the time came that there were seas of others?

  
A knife twisted deep in her gut as she found herself staring at a future of abandonment. NO, she said out loud, her words falling flat, absorbed into the swirling walls of possibility. The pictures on the walls quickly changed. A life of acclaim, where she and Anders were revered for their work in reversing those who’d been made Tranquil, where Anders looked to her with an all-consuming love that brought him to the brink of tears. Didn’t he do that already? Sometimes, anyway? She tried to shrug the demons off, recoiling from their touch. The images continued fast and heavy, and Selise closed her ears, blurred her eyes, bringing herself to full attention and ordering her mind, the Fade that she touched, that she be taken somewhere else.

The landscape of the Frostbacks came immediately back to her, thrusting her back into the chaos she had just left. The Fade was open there, visible, swarming with fragments of spirit energy like a hive of bees. She was supposed to be able to enter the Fade, wasn’t she? But how? Even before she completed the thought, she felt the whir of the fighting around her again. She stood like a ghost among the battle, seeing how the veil hugged the bodies who drew pieces of the Fade through it, shaping it into vicious, exhausting attacks. The sickly green orb of a burst open Fade pulsed and sang, centered within a symphony of violence.  
There it was. An open door through the veil, a wound in the fabric of the world, situated directly before her. Could she just… walk through it? She was practically in it already, or it was in her. She pushed the whispers of the demons further to the back of her mind, an action all mages became accustomed to, at least until the point that they found themselves feeling especially weak.

She observed Julian for a moment. Spells emerged from him that did not draw upon the Fade. He was using his own blood, the salty waters of his own life that dripped from his open wounds, to draw more power, to heal himself.  
He couldn’t see her, despite the fact that she was standing right in front of him. Wasn’t she? Standing there? She cast her eyes around. Behind her lay a thin, crumpled figure in worn brown leathers pressed down deep into the snow. A small splash of red staining the snow by her head.

With a screech a tall green Terror demon fell, melting into the blindly white landscape. Selise felt a slight moment of panic as she watched Qaris battle another that was reaching for her body. Several blows of flailing limbs landed on the crumpled figure, bruising unresponsive flesh. Soon either the mages would get the upper hand or the demons would. It couldn’t stay balanced forever.

 _Focus Selise!_ Her own demand was sharp in her head, followed by quick action of her insubstantial form. She burst forward, taking several long strides before feeling the buzzing, ripping energy of entering the Fade.  
She’d been there during her Harrowing, but the place she emerged looked very different from the place she visited in the Circle. What she saw, she couldn’t quite comprehend. People, many more people than should have been out here in the mountains, moving like shadows in a number of single file lines. She saw the chains stretched from body to body that made it clear what, who they were: slaves. They marched obediently, silently, their eyes downcast in a resigned hopelessness. She could see the end of the lines, and a cluster of imposing figures at the distant front. They didn’t see her, had no idea she was there. They weren’t really there. They were only a memory of the land.

  
Of course. The caves had been old slaver caves. _Very_ old, probably in use for many years in ages past. Intense bloodshed and trauma left its mark on a location, thinning the surrounding Fade with its energy. These bodies must be going to the caves. She could follow them, and they would probably lead her right back to Anders.  
Selise stood frozen in place for a moment, watching the shadows undulate and flicker, playing out for her like some kind of macabre theater.  
_Anders._  
At the thought of him, at what could be happening to him that very moment, she buckled inwardly a little. She had been trying to not to let herself settle into the feeling of fear that threatened to overtake her since they’d departed. Out in the woods, alone with Julian, Millie and Qaris, she felt helpless and small. Boiling over with rage and anger, but completely ineffectual and impotent. And what was happening to Anders? What if there wasn't anything left of him to return to?  
She turned again, looking back to where Julian had stood before her a moment longer. Vaguely, she felt their bodies pulling on the Fade, filling their little vessels from the vast well of magic that now sparkled around her. And she felt her own magic well up like a tidal wave. It was limitless, uncontained. She did not need a small, spiritual vessel to dip into the Fade and fill, not when she could plunge herself into the sea and drink directly from the source. Power thrummed through her, igniting her skin with a fiery pulse all its own. And along with it the rush of magic, more whispers from Pride.

  
_You could have power beyond your wildest dreams. Primal, Arcane, Spirit energy, all at your fingertips. Crumble mountains, move the very earth out of your way._  
The vision moved beyond mere words and she felt surges of unfamiliar energy build within her.

  
She pushed it out yet again, cursing at the persistence of the insidious presence. This was merely a distraction she didn’t need. Who knows when she would begin to wake, or when the demons would impale her. For the moment, the three mages who battled on the other side of the Veil still lived, but they were tiring.  
But isn’t that what she wanted? Maybe the demons would win after all, taking care of this whole problem? It was not ideal. It was not the slow, deliberate deaths she had been concocting for them as they traveled, but her options were limited. She certainly wasn’t going to do something daft like rescue them, for the sole purpose of being the one to kill them herself, was she?  
The demon whispers increased around her, filling her ears with a seductive whoosh of promises, seeming to hear every one of her thoughts.  
She felt a sharp burst of purpose finally overtake her. What was she doing? She couldn’t exactly stand there dithering while the minutes of her unconsciousness ticked away. She needed to DO something before her time ran out. Unless, Maker forbid, she hit her head too hard. But the strong pound of her heart in the peripherals of her mind assured her that despite the head injury, despite any blows her unconscious body might have taken, she lived.

She pulled her thoughts into a pinpoint, and all the sounds of battle around her silenced. Blinking her eyes, she found herself in the familiar grassy lawn of the lower courtyard of Skyhold. Bodies walked past her, unseeing, unnoticing. Figures of oblivious people walked right through her, registering nothing. Anticipation streaked up her spine as she threw herself up the stairs. At the halfway point, she realized that she didn’t need to travel the distance as though she had a body. She’d covered that whole distance of the Frostbacks in the blink of an eye.  
Solas’s room, the rotunda below the library that was half covered in towering paintings, appeared before her before her thought even completed. Standing over his table in the middle of the room was the slender figure in the long, knitted sweater. Almost immediately she saw his back stiffen, his attention drawn from the book under his fingertips.  
Looking desperately at him, she attempted words.  
“Solas!” she called and he stood upright, his eyes flicking in her direction, but not landing on anything. She moved forward and reached out a hand to touch him, but felt bitter disappointment at the reminder that she had no actual hand in this place. She pulled up her power, trying to make her energy stronger, even as she knew it probably wasn’t necessary. He clearly felt her there, or at least felt _something_ there.  
“Help!” was all she could say. He bounced on his heels for a moment, his mind working, his body coiling up for action, and then turned to take several long strides toward the wooden platform that he slept upon. If she’d had lungs in this place, she would have let out a great, relieved exhale. Soon he would be asleep. Soon he would join her and they would figure out what to do.  
Before Solas reached the ladder to his bedroll, a messenger entered the room.  
“Ser,” he said, “the Inquisitor requests your presence in the War Room.”  
Selise screamed inwardly, and then realized she might as well go ahead and scream outwardly as well, for whatever good it might do her. The messenger stood stock still, his face gravely serious. But Solas flinched just enough for her to know that maybe if he hadn’t heard, he’d definitely felt it. He looked into the air above and around him, his brows drawing into severe lines.  
“Are you sure my presence is necessary? Is there no one else who can assist her?” he asked calmly, but Selise could feel the tremble of frustration beneath his serene veneer.  
The messenger’s head tilted slightly, as if replaying the question for himself to be sure he’d heard correctly.  
“Ser? I wouldn’t know. She only asked for you. It sounded quite urgent.”  
Solas balled his hands into fists and turned on his heel to hurry out of the room. Selise followed close behind for several steps, but knew that there was little more she could do. She had gotten his attention for sure, and if she waited long enough, he would come to her. In the meantime, she realized there was someone else she might try. What any of them could do from this far away she wasn’t sure. Solas at least could give her the benefit of guidance and his experience. But it wouldn’t hurt to have someone she could trust physically on the way. Instead of taking a right to follow Solas to the War Room, she took a left to exit the Great Hall.

Cole met her in the courtyard.  
“Selise, you need help. Why are you…” he drifted off, unable to articulate the rest of the question. Selise began to feel confused herself. Was she still in the Fade at all? Perhaps she was not? She had no idea what was happening, or what she was doing.  
“Cole, I need you to find me. I need your help.”  
He nodded, his wide blue eyes searching hers.  
“Follow the glacial river at the bed of the valley until you reach a large collapsed wall blocking the path, then turn northeast. There are old slaver caves, you might be able to feel the memories in the Fade when you get close. Hurry!” she called.  
In a blink she was gone, back in the Frostbacks, back near the cave she’d been held. Something insubstantial was pulling on her, inaudible voices climbing through the expanse that gulfed her mind and body. Was she about to wake? Could she stop it?  
The cave was empty. She cursed, her voice a sneering hiss echoing through her thoughts. This cave, the one in which she’d been held wasn’t where Anders was, but where was Anders? How far was the place he was being kept? She stalked out of the cave as though she were in her body again, not sure where to go from there. She opened her mind and searched, and in rushed a cacophony of voices. Voices full of pain and sorrow, orders barked and screams of torture. This place had been very busy once. The roar of memory was almost overwhelming, and she struggled to parse out individual words.  
The other voices, the muffled ones on the outskirts of her awareness grew in intensity, and she recognized the disdainful laugh of Millie, followed by a sharp reprimand by Julian. Shit. She was being pulled back into consciousness.  
“Selise?” came yet another voice, this one soothing and clear, ripping straight through the confusion of sounds and energy. “I heard you. I am here.”  
She turned to see Solas, standing mere feet away. But she was slipping, slipping… everything within her vision dimming, the words of her captors getting louder, clearer.  
_Shit!!_  
“Solas! Find Anders!” she managed to call before his worried face faded to black. All sounds were drowned out by the sounds of shifting clothes, the wind whispering through the trees. The real trees, not the approximation of trees that were reflected in her dream, or the Fade or wherever it was that her mind had been. Pain spliced into her awareness, searing away her conscious thought and throbbing, pounding in against the confines of her busted skull. Warm hands on her buzzed and she felt magic streaming into her, pulling her back into the world.

But there was something else there. Her own magic. Fire bubbled under veins and the voices around her became shrill, frightened. For a moment, she was transported back to a memory of a burning house and two screaming men. She’d been knocked unconscious then, too. A solid hand from her father had connected with her face as she had attempted to use a sliver of restored magic on him. The reaction from him had been immediate. He’d silenced her magic, draining the mana that had begun to drip back in after she’d vomited up her brothers administration of magebane, and then he knocked her clear out of herself. To where? She had no memory of what was in between. Only of the before, of standing in front of him, trembling with fear as she tried to finally raise her courage enough to strike him first. And then the after, of reawakening with a blaze of power, power that defied the silencing attempts of a raging Templar. She rose and the flames came and she’d burned them both, taking her home down with them.

This fire was there again, her grasp of the Fade no longer thin and tenuous, no longer held in check by the spells of a vapid, blond haired Spirit mage. She had drank from the source, replenished her magic directly from the Fade, and felt filled to the brim with crackling energy. She opened her eyes and felt her body move at her command, the ground below her wet and muddy from a radiating heat that had quickly melted ice and snow. She gathered the power into her hands and prepared herself to rise again, bringing with her an old, familiar inferno. 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My deepest apologies for the crazy delay on the new chapter. Been pretty distracted by another fic I'm working on.

Fire, ice, then a couple well placed kicks, repeat, repeat. He’d brought a whole cliffside down for Maker’s sake, surely he could find a way to pry loose the ancient metal bars of his cage, since it was clear no one was coming back for him. At least not until Selise finally figured something out. He was sure she would, but whether she would do so in time was a problem that made his heart flutter with panic. His clock was ticking, and ticking all the more swiftly with each passing moment.

Until then, a blast of fire until the metal glowed, followed immediately by a shock of ice. The extremes of expanding and contracting had to weaken either the rock or the metal eventually. Sometime, something would have to break. He had no choice but to try, and keep trying. He would not just sit and let himself die while Selise was under the control of a depraved madman.

 

It was the last thing he expected. A strike back against him would have been better. But to just leave him there? To starve slowly while still looking at, and now _smelling_ the decaying bodies of Etienne and Kinley, left to wonder what they were doing with Selise, it was about as cruel an action as he could imagine. He was sure that Julian knew exactly what he was doing when he made that decision. He was probably very happy with the suffering he could cause simply by doing nothing. Anders wondered if he’d have still been left behind if they’d known who he was. Perhaps it’d been foolish not to tell them. As just another mage, he was expendable. But as someone with numerous bounties on his head, someone whose capture could offer a generous payout, they certainly would have thought twice about just shrugging him off. He cursed himself for that decision, at first quietly, and then out loud. And then he screamed while he kicked, pouring every ounce of anger he could muster into his assault on the metal bars.

They had to have left the area completely, traveling back toward Skyhold. He hadn’t heard any footsteps nearby in a day in a half. His throat was parched, every cell in his body crying out for hydration. He’d been blasting fire onto the rocks behind him and lapping up the melted drippings that emerged from ancient cracks, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.

A blast of fire until the iron glowed orange, and then a well placed kicked at the intersection of two bars. It felt soft, but still barely budged. And then a blast of ice until the orange hissed and crackled and another kick, hoping the next one would be the time that something finally shattered. First the cross section, and then where the bars met the rock. The metal was thin, pounded into crude strips, and the cross hatches overlapped in thick squares. Perhaps he should focus on where the bars met the ground, at least until he could see how deeply into the ground they go.

 

But his weakness was increasing, waves of dizziness coming each time he stood. He’d already been malnourished, and then a solid day and a half without a single scrap of food, and there was no question he was fading. He wouldn’t last long, forgotten in the cell. He knew Selise knew that much, and hopefully she was faring better. If they were forcing her to travel they’d need to be feeding her as well. If she couldn’t figure out something, that could only mean that there was nothing to be done. If this was the way it ended, he hoped that at least she got out of it all alive.

 

Justice rumbled his frustration regularly, and chunks of time slipped away, lost to darkness. He was no longer sure if it was Justice taking over or just simple, intermittent blackouts. But if Justice was attempting anything in the way of an escape, it too was useless.

He fell back against the wall, needing to take a break from the last hour’s exertion, and he felt the hazy darkness of sleep lingering close. Sleep came almost as an attack now, rearing up and swallowing him whole with only a few minutes warning and sometimes not even that. His body and mind were breaking down, and doing so all the more quickly for the efforts he expended in his attempt to escape. After yet another unsuccessful attempt at breaking the bars, he sank down into himself, exhausted and drained, and let it come. Sleep washed over him in an inky black wave, but his mind wasn’t quiet as it fell swiftly into unconsciousness. There was a voice there, waiting for him. It was calm and soothing.

“Pay attention Anders, I only have a moment.”

 

 

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

 

Something survived outside the blackened ring of death that Selise found herself within. She’d gone up in a burst of flames, but the snow hampered its reach. Millie was gone, the memory of her hair and flesh burning away from her bones replaying vividly in her mind, but there was still movement somewhere close. There were the gurgling sounds of pained breaths, the slaps of arms trying to find purchase in its surroundings. The smoke lingered around them, a hazy cloud that smelled of burnt hair and flesh. It had been much easier to bring a rickety wooden house down. Surrounded by rocks and snow, her flames had not found much to catch.

She blinked the fog out of her eyes and tried to focus on the scene around her. The gurgling and slapping belonged to a struggling Julian, while Qaris lay prostrate in the snow just beyond them both. Her limbs shook as she rose to a stand, and after the first few steps she worried that her wobbly legs might not carry her all the way to Julian. The exertion of all the running in the snow they’d done, combined with a explosion of power from immersion in the fade, had combined to make her very bones feel like jelly.

Qaris stirred, his hair had been singed nearly to the scalp, and his clothes hung in blackened tatters. As he turned to face her, he revealed a number of large orange blisters bubbling off his skin. He’d been burned for sure, but was otherwise intact.

Julian looked no better, only his own blood streamed from his nose and mouth, a trickle from his ear pooled beneath his head. Selise felt a surge of panic, needing suddenly to get to him, to finish him off before he attempted to make use of his own bleeding lifeforce, but her attempt to walk faster only found her facedown in the snow. Her body still felt foreign, her limbs disobedient and sluggish, every vessel, vein and artery sore and bruising through her flesh in purple streaks and lines, running up and down her arms, her legs, her neck, stinging from the memory of pulling her over mountains like reins on a horse. Her scorched leathers crackled around her as they cooled.

There came a grunt, a hitched breath and a startled, confused gurgle of a voice, asking in shrill, terrified tones, “what are you doing!?”

She turned around completely, still feeling like she was caught in a dream, still unsure of the reality she found herself within, but what she saw was the hilt of Qaris’ blade buried in Julian’s chest. Selise forced her legs to stay steady for each pained step until she was towering over the dark skinned man. Those white, perfect teeth were red with blood, his eyes casting about in fright as he coughed and hiccuped. Qaris had not stabbed the man in the heart, but had deliberately aimed a little lower and off to the side. A lung. One single lung, pierced straight through, meant a slow, painful death, and Selise gave Qaris an approving, thankful nod. Whatever else Qaris had planned, he’d at least given Julian the death he deserved.

Selise knelt down to look into the man’s eyes, and that ocean of Fade magic still felt so close, as close as one could get without walking within it. It was nothing to Selise to gather up a new infusion of mana, as effortless as taking a breath. All that power she shaped carefully, sending it into Julian in the form of the most horrific nightmare she could create. His already wide eyes widened further, pupils blown hollow and black as the scream in his throat started out a small, high pitched whine. It was coming slowly, an instinctive reaction that was dampened by fear-induced paralysis, his mind digging deep to find the very darkest imagery that existed within. She was looking into his eyes the moment he had his final spark of lucidity, before madness carried him into himself and out of himself and sent him tumbling headlong into the nightmare world which would be his deathbed. She imagined the images plaguing him drew new dimensions of fear by manipulating his pain, mixing with the sensation of lungs that slowly filled with blood and then collapsed. It would be a death as terrible as any he’d ever inflicted upon anyone else, certainly as bad as whatever he’d had in mind for her, and for Anders. A death that maybe Anders had already suffered.

When his screams made her eardrums ache, she stood on creaking bones and took a long look at her surroundings. What she needed was their trail of footsteps in the snow, hoping against the rational voice in her head that it might be as easy as simply backtracking the entire way. As long as no fierce winds had blown, the possibility existed, however unlikely it may be. Qaris was groaning as he moved about and Selise turned to see him packing snow onto his blisters. She could stay and speak to him, ask what his intentions were now. He was clearly no threat, or he’d be jumping on this moment of opportunity to make a move of his own. But he wasn’t bothering with her at all, and apparently not fearing her wrath either as he kept his back turned to her, focusing only on his own wounds.

He had good reason not to care, as he was not her concern. Anders remained strong in her mind, and she held to the love that swelled in her heart for him, shaking away the memories of the demons whispering, taunting her with her own self-doubt, toying with all her insecurities. She would have to learn to resist such mental attacks if she was going to walk in the Fade as the somniari of legend do. She would have to strengthen her mind, and learn to block it out.

This is what she told herself as she pushed each leg forward, first one and then the other, traveling away from the panicked screams of Julian, screams that sounded as though they were ripping apart his throat. The Fade rift continued to buzz and thrum through the air, and she felt the legions of demons on the other side, attracted to the wails of pain coming from the incapacitated blood mage. Soon more would appear, and whoever was left in the vicinity would have to fight all over again. She turned and called to Qaris, the elf crouched down in the snow, seemingly in shock.

“Hey!” she rasped, her voice croaking and not carrying far at all. “Qaris!” she tried again, and this time he turned. She nodded to the Fade rift, feeling the pulsations of demonic bodies preparing to plunge through it. “Get away from that thing!”

And then she turned again, seeing finally the line of disturbance in the snow that indicated their trail, and onward she trudged, her muscles screaming, her bones vibrating, her head pounding. It would be a slow trip, and at some point she’d have to rest, but she couldn’t rest too long. Something in her gut told her that there was no time to spare, not a single second to waste resting when she had the energy to move forward, however painful that might be.

 

 

It helped to think of things, get lost in thought as she moved, trying to separate her mind from the raw mass of pain that was her body. She thought of Solas’ words, that exploring her past might be the key to her magic. He had been right of course. Getting knocked into sleep during the fight with her father had given her access to destructive magic, a magic she could never quite master under any other circumstances. When she’d tried in the Circle it always came in irregular, uncontrolled bursts. Which brought her back to his statement that her presence disturbs the veil. If the barrier between herself and the Fade was moving, changing around her, then perhaps that was why the destruction she tried to pull through it always pulsated and changed so unpredictably. It was like trying to run water through a constantly changing sieve. Walking through the Fade in dreams was something most mages were supposed to be able to do anyway, at least according to the Circle, but she was different somehow, he’d said. As a dreamer she had more control, more freedom, the ability to shape the Fade to her will and not just be a tourist fumbling about in a strange land.

She stepped on as though practically sleeping on her feet, opening an eye every now and again to confirm the trail still lay before her, her eyes searing with the brightness of the sun reflected off the snow. How many days had they been walking away from the caves? Two days? Three days? She wasn’t quite sure anymore.

There was one frightening moment she woke up face down on the ground. Her cheeks were biting with cold, and she had no memory of falling. No memory of laying there for however long it had been, and she certainly hadn’t felt like she’d slept. Weakness was creeping in. There’d been no awareness of anything other than walking one moment, and waking up the next. She pushed herself onto shaky arms and saw the red staining the white below the imprint left by her head. Her fingertips searched the wet, matted tangles of hair and came back fresh with crimson. It must have been from the hit she’d taken when the demon threw her against the rock. But it was not dried or sticky. It was a fresh bleed.

Selise sat up and looked around the forest. She’d wandered slightly away from the path in the snow, and she had no idea how long she was out. The light looked different, but her thoughts were coming too randomly, too disorganized to remember the position of the sun when she’d begun walking away from the rift. Qaris was not following behind her. For a moment she sat still and numb, feeling too exhausted to cry, realizing there were things she should have done before she left. The rift had been about to burst again, but she should have grabbed packs, should have searched for rations, should have confirmed that Julian didn’t have the book. She had done none of those things. Why hadn’t she?

The world was blinking into darkness around her again as she distantly registered more warm moisture oozing around her ear. She knew not where exactly the wound was, only that it was somewhere on her head, the entirety of which swelled and ached as though the whole thing was the wound. For a moment her stomach heaved, but she swallowed down the bile that crept up her throat. There was little in her stomach anyway, just the small ration of stale bread she’d been given that morning.

Julian had loved trying to make her eat. He laughed brightly, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he tried to work her jaw, pulling on the blood in her neck and her throat that made her swallow, and in the process she choked and repeatedly bit her tongue. She’d closed her eyes and tried to drift away from it, only to be yanked back to attention when a dry piece of crust lodged in the back of her throat. She could barely cough, and could only sputter helplessly, until Julian figured out the right controls to get things moving again. She felt like a piece of machinery, an elaborate contraption with gears and pulleys and switches, and a controller at the helm who had no idea what he was doing. There were few other moments in her life in which she felt as deprived of dignity, even among the memories she had with her father.

The blotches of black began pulling on the edges of her consciousness, and combined sickeningly with a spinning of the trees, and flip-flopping of the ground and sky, and for a moment her head grew cold, finding itself mysteriously cradled within a pillow of soft, fresh snow. She noted somewhere vaguely that she was laying down again, her lids growing heavier and heavier with each breath she took. As the pain ebbed out of her body, and the cold soothed the pounding of her skull, she closed her eyes gratefully and let the darkness take over again.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

 

Solas had told Anders where the keys to the cell were stashed, behind a rock in a separate cave, a rock that would be hard to move due to years of not being touched, not that it would do Anders any good from trapped inside a cage. He’d also pointed to a piece of rock in the wall behind Anders, that he’d said sat just before a giant block of ice. If he directed his flames just right, the water would pour out so at least he could remain hydrated in the meantime. If he could ration it well enough to wait out his rescue; a rescue which was not guaranteed to come in time.

There was little Anders had been able to say in return, and they were things that Solas seemed already to know. He told him quickly about the blood mages, and that the blood mages had Selise and were heading back to Skyhold. He told Solas that they had some sort of plans for the Inquisitor, and that it’d been a few days — he was losing track of how many -- and that he had no food. Solas promised help was on the way, and then he was gone. Anders didn’t even remember now how long it had been since the dream. Time was flowing past him both faster than he could grasp it, and slower than his body could bear. Death was not far away. Another day, maybe two, or so it felt. Even with the little portions of water he’d had so far, his muscles felt like they were eating themselves, and his bones felt increasingly hollow.

 

As Solas had instructed, he forced a torrent of flames toward that one particular rock, starting slowly at first. For a moment, nothing happened and Anders’ heart sank within his chest as he waited, not even bothering to stand to investigate further. He heard the cracks and shifting in the wall that indicated something was happening, but no water appeared. He tried again and waited. Slowly little drips formed on the lowest ledge of the rock, bulbs of clear liquid that hung in place for long moments before finally gathering enough weight to separate and fall. One more blast and the drips got fatter, faster, falling and then filling again. Anders stood on shaky legs and opened his mouth beneath the ledge, letting fat drop after fat drop fall onto his tongue. The rock steamed with residual heat, and quickly the drops were fuller and falling in a stream. Anders gulped and gulped, the water sweeter, and much more pure that the drivel he’d been surviving upon thus far, and soon his cramping stomach felt like it was expanding with the growing contents. In time his whole head was wet with a curiously invigorating burst of icy runoff, wrenching him away from exhaustion. He drank until his stomach hurt, and until he was sure he’d begin to retch if he continued. But the water kept coming, and he made a mental note to go easier next time. He didn’t know how long he’d have to rely upon whatever mysterious stores were secreted behind the wall, and didn’t want to deplete his new supply too quickly. The full stomach, as uncomfortable it made him after days and days of living on scant rations, still gave him a burst of energy that was enough to turn him back toward the bars.

He paused for a moment, his nose filled the putrid scent of rotting meat, and he first turned back toward the bloated bodies of the two sharing his cave. More ice now, in wide scattered bursts, covering andf freezing the corpses. Ice at least might further slow the decomposition, and lessen the stench somewhat, giving Anders a welcome reprieve from the constant presence of death. Anders could barely look at them any more, as deformed and discolored as they were, and he administered his bursts of ice with averted eyes.

When that was done it was the metal bars again, a new surge of hope encouraging him to continue on, to begin the cycle anew. A burst of flames. A burst of ice. And a roar ripping from his throat as he gave the crackling metal a solid kick. Something had to give eventually.

 


	23. Chapter 23

Selise was somewhere. Somewhere cold, harsh and constantly changing. A breeze swirled around her head, whispering sweetly into her ear. Or was it a breeze? Maybe it was a breath, and the whispers were just real words, utterings too slippery for her mind to grasp. Just as she thought she might know, it morphed into a croon, growing deeper, louder, vibrating down her spine, until her teeth chattered. Then the chatter became rocks falling, crashing and crumbling, sharp cracks of impact that sounded like snaps of a whip. And then it wasn't that either, it was the crackle of lightning, sharp and jolting. Wherever she was, whatever it was, it was constantly changing. Even in her ears, nothing was solid or sacred or static.

A part of her knew it must have been the Fade again already, but she shouldn't be there now. Julian was dead and she should be running. She should be looking for Anders.

As quickly as she could think it, she was moving, gliding through white landscapes that seemed like the same few features on a loop, repeating, fading and reforming before her eyes. Maker, she didn't want to be here any more. She was sick of these blighted mountains, sick of the cold, sick of the hunger, sick of the nervousness. Her stomach had long since eaten itself up, leaving only a raw wound inside of her, aching with the need for food and a surplus of overstimulated nerves.

But as she moved, the constraints of her body grew faint. She was falling further and further away from the pain, the mortal tether that bound her to a sack of emaciated flesh and bones. The flesh is weak, she realized, but her mind held onto it anyway, not knowing what else to do. The body, with all its pains and limitations, was familiar. It was home. But she shouldn't be asleep. She hadn't fallen asleep, had she? Somewhere far away came a bite of pain on her cheeks, feeling both too intense too bear, and trivial compared to the task before her. Find Anders, get out of the mountains, and Maker fuck the rest.

She remembered the vision she'd had before, the lines of people in chains, memories of wounds in time recorded in the fabric of the Fade, but it was not there now. Not until she thought about it,  _called_  to it. And like a looking glass with the lenses being turned, it had all suddenly come into focus before her. But the memory looked different this time. This time she saw those leading the procession, people who looked no different than the others save for a different set of clothing. And they were handing out food, water, worrying for their families back home. Not everyone was in chains. Many seemed there by their own choice, following along with hope in their eyes and coin jingling in their pockets. She could feel them, their commitment to the cause, their attention to the workers, their concern for what was still to come. With resolve and determination, they led their charges onward.

The scene only distracted her for a moment, and she was suddenly rising above them, following the lines of movement faster than she could understand, beyond the capabilities of the body that her mind still assumed was there, even if only out of habit. But it was not, and she traveled unencumbered by the physical rules of the flesh.

The caves appeared quickly, dark windows in a granite mountain, revealing nothing of the secrets within. The images of Fade memories flickered as apparitions entered and disappeared, traveling around the network of dark entrances like bees in a hive. From a distance she counted five cave openings, though how deeply they went, which ones merged and honeycombed into others she didn't know.

But she could know. She focused her mind and tuned into the Fade, syncing with the imprints of slavers coming and going, raging and despairing, living hard enough to leave a permanent mark on the land. There was a vast network beneath a portion of the mountain, but that was on the far side. Through the fading light she saw tracks, edges softened by wind, but traveled enough to be worn deep, until the ice and mud parted, leaving only exposed rocks.

Could she hear him? She'd come to know Anders more deeply than she knew anyone. She knew the beating of his heart, the whisper of the air through his lungs, the crackle in his voice when he spoke. She knew the heat that was in his touch and in his eyes and in his loins, and he  _had_  to be here somewhere. This is where they had been the last time she saw him, and there was no where else he could be. She called out, but she had no voice to ring through the air, no feet to drag her through the snow. His name died unspoken in the throat that existed too far away to make a sound. She tried to sigh, an instinctual reaction to exasperation, but it was pointless. The only thing she could do was move, and see.

Caves both empty and not, teeming with images that had no form but which loitered about in spaces black, barren and cold. But the cages were empty, save for rocks and the occasional pile of bones. Another cave another empty space, and then another and then another. Rocky floors and broken metal, darkness that felt oily and rich, like plunging your hand into a pool of tar. She almost didn't see him when she finally found the cave, but she felt him. Another blink and she was within the bars of his cage and standing beside his crumpled form, frail and thin, lost to unconsciousness.

"Anders?" she spoke as she knelt, words that made no sound but in her head. But Solas had entered her dreams and there they had spoken. He had taken her somewhere, controlled it all. She needed to do the same. Anders too was in the Fade, traveling as all mages traveled, his mind so deeply imprisoned that he hadn't bothered to wander far, hadn't even recognized that he was anywhere other than alone in a lonely void, freezing and starving and left to wither away on a stone floor.

 

 

xxxx

 

 

How had she gotten in?

Anders blinked hard, seeing her clearly despite the smothering darkness. She looked just as he remembered, wild and beautiful, if a little dirty and thin. And then she was kneeling, a hand coming forward, he wanted to flinch, unable to believe what he was seeing. Not only was she there, but she was inside the cage, standing only a few feet before him. He jumped to attention and looked immediately to the door, frowning with confusion as he confirmed that it had not opened. He thought he heard his name and wanted to recoil, unable to trust this vision before him so easily. It must have been a demon, but were that actually the case, Justice would have been stirring. He took a breath and she only got closer, moving in, her hands warm and searching, cupping his face, looking into his eyes, flying through his hair, his clothes, his body, confirming that he was whole. And then she was balling up, settling her body on the ground beside his and burrowing into his arms. Anders' heart raced, building to a hammering speed that made his head feel like it was spinning, but the images before him didn't budge the way he felt they should have. He blinked some more, staring dumbly down at the vision of his lover. This couldn't possibly be real. There was no way this was actually real.

The cave around them began to change, morphed and lightened, becoming something warmer, brighter, more familiar. It took less than a heartbeat before he found himself in bed in his room in Skyhold, with Selise still tucked tightly against him. Thick blankets over their lap, a soft mattress beneath.

"What is happening?" he asked. Suddenly his body didn't hurt anymore.

"We're dreaming," she said, her voice flowing like silk over his mind, soothing his anxiousness with a wash of warmth. She squeezed around him even harder. Her dark hair cascaded down her back in luxurious waves, healthy, shiny and thick. The dirt smudging her face was gone, her skin creamy and clean again, pink flushing the cheeks below heavily lashed lids. And he too felt more substantial, his limbs fuller, stronger. If this was a dream, it was unlike any dream he'd ever had.

The uncertainty, the fear, the questions all melted away. Even if it was all an illusion, it was still infinitely better than the cruel Void of the mountain caves. He smoothed her hair out of her face, amazed at the solid texture beneath his palms, and pulled her chin up to look at him. It felt like her, and more than just her body. He could feel her spirit, that distinctive spark of  _her_  behind the silver shine of her eyes. He covered her lips in a kiss, their mouths coming together as though simply following their inherent nature, two magnets drawn to join without any effort expended. Her lips were full and cool, her mouth tasting as it usually did, of a subtle combination of chamomile and mint. To see her healthy and vibrant again made his heart swell to the point of bursting.

Her tongue slid warm and soft against his, fingers clutching harder and harder at flesh that felt real, that resisted dissolving away into nothing. This was a dream?

"Anders," she whispered after she broke away, cupping his jaw and running her fingers through his hair. Shivers raced down his skin and Maker it felt like everything and nothing all at once. He glanced around the room. It was exactly as his had been. His books still piled on the table. The tea kettle hanging by the fire, half full of water and ready to be put on. The frosty peaks of the mountains were visible through the windows. Candles and lanterns flickered, illuminating shadowy corners.

"How is this possible? Why does this feel so real?"

"I found you," she whispered, laying her cheek back onto his shoulder. "I found you."

It dawned on him slowly, his sluggish mind locating the recent memory of the things she'd said when they were together in the cave. She was like Feynriel. And Solas. Solas had come to him too, but he'd not taken him anywhere, the way Selise had done. Solas had not eased his pains or quieted his groaning stomach. This was an entirely new reality, a multi-sensory illusion.

He sank down into the bed, stretching out his limbs and pulling Selise down with him. She'd found him, but she wasn't speaking, wasn't moving.

"Where are you? Are you okay?" he asked. Her lids fluttered but she didn't open her eyes.

"I don't know," was all she said.

"Who are you with?"

"I'm with you," she said. Her voice seemed small and distant.

"No, your body… if we're dreaming, then you're sleeping? Are you camped? Is Julian hurting you?"

"Julian is dead."

Anders would have laughed, embracing the surge of satisfaction that coursed through him at that knowledge. But instead he felt only a razor sharp pang of worry. There was something wrong with the way she sounded, the way she was speaking. If Julian was dead, and she didn't know where she was, then what did that mean?

He turned her over, shaking her body, or whatever it was that was in his arms. Her head lolled around, but her eyes opened weakly. Her only response was to try to burrow back into him again.

"Why are you sleeping? What is wrong?"

"I don't know," she said, and he barely heard it. "I can't wake up."

He held her quietly for what felt like hours, his mind warring with the knowledge that he needed to wake up, he needed to keep trying to free himself from his cage if he had any chance of getting to her body and discovering what was wrong. But leaving her, leaving the warmth, the comfort of the dream, a lack of pain and agony that he hadn't felt in what seemed an eternity, was practically impossible. He'd begun to wonder if this was the way they might both leave the world, and he could think of worse fates. All he could bring himself to do was pray. He prayed to the Maker for intervention, that he help her, that someone find her, and if not her, then find  _him_  so that he could get to her himself. Praying seemed to be about as useful as anything else he'd done so far, and even stuck in the dream, even as he physically slept he still felt tired. But at least there was no pain, no cold, no hunger. The Seeker's tome no longer seemed important, and he promised again and again to the Maker that if they could just escape the mountains with their lives, he would leave the book to its own fate. They had the information they needed, and it was so much simpler than he ever could have guessed. If they hadn't had to protect the book, they might have asked Solas to send for help. He'd still be exiled, but maybe they might have used the roads that led more quickly out of the mountains, instead of crisscrossing into the roughest of terrain, trying to stay hidden. And then maybe they wouldn't have met the blood mages. Maybe everything would have been different.

The fact that the dream persisted was his only source of hope. If she was holding them in the dream, then her mind was working, and if her mind was working, her body was living. She'd grown less and less responsive, her answers to his nudges, his questions were mere groans and whimpers, but at least there _were_ responses. He almost wished he could feel the aching in his stomach, the acidic wash of anxiety that he knew was there, as maybe it would have been impetus enough to make him fight again, fight against the constraints of metal and stone and cold and bring him incrementally closer to actual freedom. But she had them so perfectly cocooned in a warm, painless dream that his resolve faltered. How could he possibly let her go, when he didn't know how much longer either of them even had?

Slowly, Justice began to awaken, thinking in unhappy whispers.

 _You are giving into sloth_.

Yes. Yes, I think I am.

_You would let ourself waste away for this illusion?_

You can have the body if you want it. I am tired of hurting. I am tired of everything.

Anders couldn't help but think back to when he first met Justice, when Justice inhabited the decaying, grayish corpse that had once belonged to Kristoff. It had been difficult even to look at Justice at first, but he and the others had all gotten used to it eventually, as the spirit fought and conversed beside them day after day. Perhaps Justice might find himself back in another dead vessel after all, walking Anders' corpse around in the same manner that he had Kristoff's. Or perhaps he might be freed, left to return to the Fade, perhaps to reconnect with his purpose, perhaps to complete his transformation into something else. Either one would probably be easier for him than remaining stuck in a weakening body alongside Anders. It'd be much less infuriating than tolerating those few conflicting desires that angered them both so. Those conflicts had become some of the only conscious moments that they still felt a little bit separate, and they were growing in frequency and intensity. Justice grew more and more frustrated with how Anders' energy was flagging with increasing age, with the draining effects of the taint, with years and years of being on the run with no one to trust. Anders' wasn't sure how long his body could keep up with Justice when he was just  _Justice,_ much less when he was Vengeance. That Selise could tame him when he emerged and ran rampant had been a life-changing revelation, but even she couldn't stop the constant, wearying demands of an immortal who doesn't recognize or accept the limitations of his mortal body even during peace.

And when would the day come that there was no more Justice at all? It seemed increasingly possible that someday all that would remain would be Vengeance, and eventually, possibly not even Anders.

But there was no way to know. The future was not set, a lesson he had learned over and over again. A lesson that should have been motivation of its own.

_Someone approaches._

Anders felt the hum of Justice now, a confused radiating of energy trying to emerge but finding no body in this place to do so. The form of Anders laying in the bed with Selise in his arms was not a real body, and they were not inside his mind. Selise, however incapacitated she might have been, retained the last word of control, holding the illusion steadfastly into place. But the hum of his spirit passenger increased, fighting against the constraints of the dream, and slowly Anders grew uncomfortable as the hold of the real world grew stronger and stronger.

Someone approaches, Justice had said. But approaches where? Surely another was not approaching within the dream. He could only mean in the cave.

Fuck. The blighted cave. He could cry at the thought of returning there, back to the torture of his captivity, back to the shivering and the hurting and feeling his body inch a little bit closer to death with every passing second. But someone approaches. Someone approaches and now he knew where the keys were. And Julian is dead.

He let Justice's energy pull him slowly away from Selise. Though he looked down and saw her, appearing to be slumbering peacefully in his arms, she felt further and further away. In order to leave her he had to acknowledge the reality of the fact that she wasn't really there. And wherever she really was, she needed help. The warmth was disappearing completely, the pain ebbing back in, and it was horrific, like tiptoeing into an icy pond and having to adjust to the discomfort in an eternity of icy increments. He whispered a last prayer, that this not be the last time he see her, that this not be the moment they both meet their end, and then he jumped headlong into the frigid waters of consciousness, wrenching himself out of the soothing lie of the dream.

Immediately it felt as though a ravenous beast was inside him, gnawing at his organs, clawing through his flesh and bones and innards. It was the hunger and the cold and the pain, as substantial as a third party, crowding into the increasingly tight space of his body. But Anders had no time to listen to its demands.  _Someone approaches._

But Justice wasn't letting him have control. This felt familiar somehow, as though the someone coming was not a someone, and was more of a some _thing_. Was it something he'd already known before? As the grey darkness of the cave came into focus, his eyes watering against the assault of the frosty air, he thought he saw a figure. His vision, only just restored was again blotting out, fading into blackness with the force of Justice pushing him aside, thrumming and buzzing his control over the physical form they shared. But before the darkness was complete, the figure came fully into view.

A skinny kid with white hair and a very large hat.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know I promised this a long time ago, but things have been busy here (had a baby, graduated from one college and started at another, and a few other things.) So my apologies as always for the ridiculous delay. I am looking forward to getting back into the swing of things!

Anders’ warmth was replaced by a cold chill that filled the hollow of Selise’s bones. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that everything was wrong anyway, that even the visions she’d held onto were just little boxed moments spiraling through an infinite abyss. The room fell away, and the dank shadows of the cave behind it retreated too. It felt too real to be only a memory, but it was achieved too easily to be fully trusted. Surely everything she’d seen and felt was all merely an imaginary construct? An illusion? They didn’t bear the flavor of her usual visions, of the flashes of _knowing_ that had invaded her out of the blue her whole life. These were all something different.

But she’d _felt_ him. She’d been touched by his flesh, comforted by his heartbeat and his voice in her ear. And that warmth… how could a heat that had thawed her blood against the icy snow and wind be only a fantasy?

No, it wasn’t fantasy. Or not exactly. Dreams, of a sort. An usually powerful sort. Yes, for a moment she remembered. She’d done all that herself. She’d known it at the time but things were getting blurrier and blurrier. Distantly, Solas’ words echoed in her memory. An explanation of what she could do, of what she _was._ The knowledge slipped away again. Her mind was so weak, unable to hold on to the bits of thought she could manage to form.

The darkness gave way to white, a blinding wall of it that blared its brightness through the pink of her closed eyelids. Heavy, nearly immovable eyelids, closing in the pounding in her skull that clouded out all sound in a deafening _lub…lub…lub._

The cold biting at her skin felt the same as burning. Torched alive in a casket of ice.

There was darkness at the edges; a peaceful nothingness. No burning, no wondering, no wandering lost inside the confines of her own mind. The Fade pulsed its proximity, a breeze of whispers caressing at the furthest limits of her awareness. With Anders gone again she was left at the mercy of her internal sea, a storm raging, pushing the vessel of her body over crests of pain and disorientation.

She turned away from the icy burning, from the sickly glow of the Fade and faced the black. Deep and oily, the Void gaped endlessly at her. Within the darkness was an enticing lull of stillness. Something close to… _peace._

 

She floated for a moment within the silence, the pain of the ice dissolving away. It held her in its soft nothingness, soothing away the agony until all that remained was numbness. She’d been out of her body then back in again, and now… she wasn’t sure where she was. She wasn’t sure _what_ she was.

Until a voice cut through the dark. It took a moment to realize it was her own, coming from some reptilian depth, her primal drive for survival lashing out against the fading.

 

_NO!_

 

_Be strong!_

 

It had only been moments ago that Anders’ arms were around her. His tender touch, imbued with awe and love… for the moments she’d been beside him nothing else mattered. If her life was fading away, she didn’t want to be lost to some empty blackness. She at the very least wanted to be near Anders. This had all been for him, hadn’t it? To let go now, to sever her last remaining ties to this world, to leave him abandoned alone in the caves to starve would mean that Julian, despite his death, had accomplished some of what he’d set out for.

 

And that simply could not be.

 

Gathering what strength remained took effort enough to almost drain those last bits away completely. She squeezed at her mind, bore down toward what sensation lingered and called up a new vision. The white of the world ebbed slowly into the blackness. She was pushing it away as much as she was pulling herself back up, an expansion of any scrap of herself she could reach until the brightness enveloped her again. With it came the searing pain, scraping away her flesh until she felt like a mass of raw, exposed nerves, inundated with hunger and injury and cold. Her slowing heart still beat, and until her body reached some crucial threshold of blood loss, her mind still worked. There was precious little time.

 

It was Anders she pictured as she gathered her will into a ball in her chest. Anders’ amber eyes, the soft caress of his magic, the sadness of his memories, the strength of his convictions, his passion, his love. It filled her, slowly but powerfully, like the fire she’d exuded before she cooked Julian’s flesh. Suddenly the Fade was there as instantaneously as if it had been there all along. And of course it had been. With her energy coiled, the Fade at her fingertips, her mind holding fast to its last bit of lucidity, to Anders, she burst into a new place, piercing through the veil and the void and landing somewhere filled with cold, shifting images.

 

Green, shimmering, fluid shapes manifesting and dissolving. Selise was once again within the Fade.

 

Travel here was an afterthought. As quickly as she registered the familiar forms of memories moving across the land, she was at the mouth of the cave again. This blasted, murderous cave that she’d sooner bring to a permanent, violent end than have to enter one more time. But within there were energies, even… lights? A blue glow, bright like lyrium, like anger and defiance, like… _Justice._

 

A deep, angry voice, punctuated by the quieter placations of a softer one. She heard the rumbles and murmuring, felt the thrumming in the Fade as the figures moved and spoke. There was rage and magic, the Fade disturbed by a wake of conflict. One figure pushed while the other pulled, mismatched in their efforts and locked into an unproductive dance.

Selise entered, and the forms inside stopped, two sets of eyes turned toward her.

If she’d been there in the flesh, she’d have collapsed with relief. Cole’s strange form promised help. But it was clear that Justice was not accepting it.

Instead of collapsing, she eliminated the distance between herself and Justice with a blink. Cole stepped aside, his comforting presence exuding a calm determination. Selise took Justice’s hand and looked into the glowing blue orbs of his eyes. The essence of Justice that had climbed up her arms before seemed to overtake her almost immediately. It found no body to grasp but it infected her with emotion. She felt the ghosts of her nerves buzz and inflame, rising with the anger Justice felt toward Cole.

“Why?” she asked, exasperated. “He’s here to help.”

“His type of help is not desired,” came the answer.

“If Anders does not leave this cage, he will die. You know this. You know he wants out. He _needs_ out. There’s no time for this!”

“This spirit has been pestering me since our arrival at Skyhold,” Justice’s voice echoed in her mind. “He wishes to interfere where he is not needed.”

“He _IS_ needed!”

“NO,” growled Justice.

Selise craned her neck to look at the skinny boy. Standing pale and still, Cole was unyielding, standing firm with a black ring of keys dangling from his hand. Taking them herself barely needed considering; she had no body present with which to grasp the physical objects. Cole, however, seemed to be able to manifest a physical force, an ability to move within the world as half spirit, half body. He alone could unlock the cell door.

“You have to let him unlock the gate, Justice,” Selise insisted.

A surge of power rang out from where her Fade form joined with Justice, bringing with it a new knowing that she experienced as her own.

_Fear. Fear of nothingness, of becoming obsolete, worthless._

She turned again to look into the blue glow of Justice’s eyes, and beneath that glow, Anders’ face. Her love. So thin and weak looking. She could feel the feeble beat of his heart, the chill in his bones. A new pang of sorrow cut through Justice’ influence.

“He seeks to separate us,” Justice stated. “Anders and me.”

Selise drew an instinctive breath, inhaling nothing into her absent lungs.

“But he couldn’t….”

She turned again toward Cole, who was taking a step closer.

“A power I do not have,” Cole confirmed. “I only want to help.”

“Separation would be the result of your help,” Justice retorted.

Cole took yet another step, then stopped and trained his ghostly grey eyes upon hers.

“I cannot heal a fellow spirit. But Anders... _always carried by a foreign current, crashing through darkness to wake with bloody hands… this is not what he agreed to… “_

Selise almost laughed. “But separation is not even possible. You two knew that when you joined.”

The cave seemed to go silent for a long moment.

“It is possible,” Cole said quietly. Selise glared at him in disbelief. “You’ve not read it in the book yet, but it is there… _cloaked by smoke and prayers, to all but the highest alighted, what they don’t know won’t hurt them, the ends justify the means…_

“And Anders could do it?” she gaped at the fluid form of him, growing transparent and then solid again. The outskirts of her vision swarmed with the movement of other figures within the Fade.

“Anders could seek other mages for assistance. But someone could… Anders… or _you,_ could…” Cole stopped, the words apparently frozen on his lips. His eyes flicked to Justice, whose energy responded with a burst of angry intensity.

“What?”

The words left her only a moment before the realization came to her on its own. Of course. _Kill Justice._ Kill the spirit here in the Fade and Anders would be free?

 _“Is that what you mean to do?”_ she asked Cole before he had a chance to answer. It would make sense. Freeing Anders would go a long way toward that ‘help’ that he so needed. And whatever hurt remained after the separation, Cole could heal as well.

She felt Justice feel her, picking up her thoughts and reacting, preparing for a fight and growing too intense to be contained. It streamed through her like a river, pushing at the boundaries of her own control.

“I said it already. I do not mean to kill. I mean to _save. To help.”_ Cole insisted as he took another step forward, the keys jingling as he moved. ”It is not in my power to kill another spirit.”

Selise’s mind raced. Was killing Justice something she should do? Was it something she _could_ do?

Another step closer, just a dozen more and Cole would have the keys at the door.

Justice flared, a roar filling the cave and saturating the air. Anders’ frail body vibrated with the presence of the magic that was pulled to the surface by Justice. But the pool of mana upon which Justice drew was frighteningly shallow. It shouldn’t have been, with Anders’ spirit passenger fully immersed within the Fade and strengthening his connection. This realization made it clear to Selise just how dire Anders’ situation was. There was so little of him remaining that was holding onto life. The knowledge was a dagger through her soul. She turned to Cole again, his pale eyes were narrowed, his face screwed up into a wince.

“Pain so loud, so loud it hurts… Without it Anders would be stronger, better, _he_ could heal more, help others the way I do…”

The closer he approached, the more Justice strengthened. Every spark of Selise’s awareness was filled with conflicting energies, her own precariously balanced on the edge of oblivion, Anders growing fainter by the minute, Justice preparing for a fight, while Cole was pulled toward them, compelled beyond his own ability to resist…

Selise steeled herself, habitually trying to tune into her breathing, to find an internal center. But nothing was where it was supposed to be. The maelstrom of Justice’s energy was disorienting. A slip of her mind fell back to her body, snapped into place by some unseen corridor. The pain there had melded entirely with the cold, but a dangerous numbness had started creeping in.

“There is a third option,” strained Cole. “If they chose… if they both agreed to part, the same as they both agreed to merge…”

Selise stared at the spirit boy as hard as she could muster. It seemed absurd that there could be a solution _that_ simple.

“They never tried it because they didn’t know, " he said. 

 

Selise was frozen into place, her mouth hanging open.

“But the Chantry says that’s impossible!” she cried.

“Lies, lies,” murmured Cole, “ _temples built on lies… less power, less resistance… the ends justifies the means…”_

The cave began to spin, its walls wobbling around her like a child’s plastic top. The new information sent her skittering to comprehend the implications. The Chantry… that _fucking Chantry!_ Of course it was lies such as this that made the Seeker book so valuable. Lies such as this that Anders sought to reveal, that had brought him to Skyhold to begin with.

To remove possession, they merely needed to choose, they’d _both_ need to choose, to agree. And would they? They’d proved themselves discordant in so many ways… what were either getting out of their union now anyway?

Selise felt dizzier for the lack of solid ground beneath her feet. It was only Justice’s iron grip that kept her locked into place as she grappled with this revelation.

She tried to take a deep breath, more for the comforting familiarity than for a need for air. She closed her own new rage out of her mind and tried to focus.

Whatever else there was to learn, it would have to wait. The immediate priority wasn’t uncovering Chantry secrets, it was getting the gate open.

But Justice’s defiance was unwavering.

“Justice,” Selise implored, pulling a vein of magic through her, magic she didn’t want to use. Everything felt uncertain here, so unpredictable. To weaken Justice with the drain spell might risk removing the last bit of life out of Anders himself. It might mean draining her own energy beyond the point of recovery. Selise slowed the stream of magic, struggling to hold her power in check.

Far away, the _lub lub lub_ of her own heart continued to slow. Black spots danced around her eyes, what little energy that was sustaining her getting consumed bit by bit in the effort of keeping her magic close but under tight reins.

On the edges of her mind remained the cold burning of her body. There was only so long it could last laying encased in ice. If blood loss hadn’t killed her yet, hypothermia eventually would.

With each moment she stood with her magic at the ready, she felt herself slipping.

Selise sighed and released the magic tether, letting it all fall away while her sluggish mind raced for other answers. It was like wading through mud. Her brain must not have been getting a full blood supply anymore, and would only continue to get less the longer her body languished without aid.

She refocused on Justice. No, her entropy spells were not an option. She didn’t have the strength and there was too much at risk. She would have to talk him out of this. And quickly.

Selise softened her voice and reached her energy toward the glowing figure. He felt tense and erratic, his energy an assault on her own. The one grace was that he seemed to register on a low scale that Anders’ body was not capable of the physical pacing and fighting that he desired. Still, he held Anders’ magic, balancing him precariously on a brink of depletion.

“Justice,” she said, forcing her voice into as soothing a tone as she could manage. The root of his disdain for Cole was the fear of separation. It was this fear she would need to address.

“Why won’t you let Cole help? Even if Anders did decide to separate, he can’t do it alone. And if he sought the help of other mages… well that only means that you would be free again, without the restrictions of a body that has different needs from your own.”

“I cannot remain in the Fade. I am ineffective here. The Fade is not where injustices exist. The other side is where I can make a difference.”

“But you already have. Anders will continue even without you,” she said softly.

“NO!” Justice roared, his blue glow flaring. “He wants to rest. His body does not have the energy it once had.”

“Well…” Selise began, “that’s kind of exactly the point, isn’t it? He can't really do all the things you want him to anyway. Or he won't be able to for much longer, anyway.”

“His having to fight you all the time is what makes him so tired,” added Cole.

_“Then he should not fight!”_

But of course Anders was going to fight… after what had happened in Kirkwall? Even if he shared the goal of his passenger spirit, how could he trust his methods?

Selise’s vision was beginning to blur. She paused for a moment, wondering how vision that did not occur due to the physical existence of eyes could malfunction. She could only discern that this was due to the shut down of her brain: that organ that facilitated her thoughts, her senses and awareness, even her magic abilities. A shudder of panic rose through her energetic form. Justice felt it, his glow flaring in response. She wanted to release him, to step away. Maybe not being connected in this place would help her keep a better handle on herself. But Justice was so strong… and she was growing less and less so.

Behind her, Cole took another step.

Selise felt ice. Not ice back with her body, but ice coming from Anders himself. His magic… Justice was ready to use it, consequences be damned.

“You’re going to kill Anders,” Selise warned with a feeble voice.

“I would rather wield a deceased body than return to a life without form,” answered Justice with a chilling calm.

Selise’s thoughts stumbled toward any other solution that presented itself, any argument at all that might work. She had to find something that stuck before she slipped away entirely.

“You’d still be trapped in this cage, and what injustices could you address then?” she asked.

Justice growled as Cole took another step.

Selise glanced toward the spirit boy. His face remained pained, but resolute. It was clear he was hearing something that was causing him intense discomfort, to such a degree that he seemed entranced, moving almost outside of his own volition. She felt a surge of empathy for him in the moment; she knew the need to staunch the bleeding of a lifetaking wound, to scratch an itch that rattled every nerve in your body. He could hardly help himself. The purpose of his very existence compelled him forward, to quiet Anders’ pain. He wouldn’t be able to get close without trying to do what it was that he existed to do. To _help._

“Maybe in the Fade you could find another host? A stronger, younger host?” Selise offered frantically. She blinked her absent eyelids hard, trying to hold fast to the vision of Justice’s face, to the outline of Anders’s features below it. There was so little of Anders there in appearance, but she felt him there. For now at least, his body lived. For now, hers did too. But it wouldn’t be much longer before they were both lost.

Panic flooded Selise’s mind. Cole advanced further. She tried weakly to pull away from Justice, to insert herself between them, but Justice held her fast while he gathered strength, preparing to strike against the spirit that would render his host hostile. She had to find the right argument, and fast.

Blackness was closing in, her field of vision getting smaller.

“Justice!” she cried, the end terrifyingly imminent. Selise did not know what could possibly come next, after she’d been pulled away from this place.

“Justice… join me,” she said. The words were out. She didn’t know if they would work, but she knew Justice had sought entrance into her before. The end was seconds away.

“My body… I’m younger, I have more time… but you must let Cole unlock the gate,” she faded out for a moment, the blackness taking over before she surfaced again quickly. The second it took to reformulate her thoughts seemed to last an eternity.

“You must hurry…”

****

 

With a familiar lurch, Anders returned to the helm. The hum of Justice was receding, leaving behind the imprint of confusion. Anders blinked, the eyes Justice had been using already adjusted to the brightness of the snowy white landscape. Stilling his body mid-stride, he waited for a long moment, getting his bearings as he always had to do once Justice abandoned him in the middle of an action. The confusion soured into annoyance, but the open view before him squelched that irritation quickly.

He was out! Anders spun in a frantic survey of his surroundings, stumbling for a moment as his balance gave way under his weakness. He steadied himself with a deep breath and turned his face away from the frigid mountain breeze. Footprints trailed behind him, leading to a rising cluster of rocks and foothills, the ones that must have housed the caves. With burning lungs, Anders collapsed to his knees. His chest spasmed in painful, frantic exhalations and it took a moment to realize he was sobbing. With relief, with exhaustion, with hope. That kid, the skinny kid. _Cole._

There were no memories to access of what exactly happened, at least nothing beyond that final glimpse of an approaching silhouette. Justice, the hard-nosed bastard, had apparently decided to work with the kid this time. There wasn’t time to wish he could know what was said, especially after the way Justice had responded to him the one other time they’d met. Now, he merely needed to press forward, hoping that somehow Justice knew in which direction to travel, and had started him out correctly. Straight ahead lay a forest of spindly green pines, with the occasional boulder peeking out from the white blanket of snow.

His legs were heavy and cold, but they still functioned as they were supposed to, despite the ever-present lightheadedness. His own weakness was unignorable and even his mana existed in only a paltry film. It was a good thing he was physically whole; if he’d been in need of healing in that moment he’d have been almost entirely helpless.

If only Justice had thought to search the cave for provisions before leading their body away from it.

But even as that thought passed, he recognized its futility. Why would Julian, or the others that lived, leave any food behind? They too had an arduous journey through the mountains and knew they would need every scrap. Leaving any edible bits behind for the taking was tantamount to suicidal recklessness.

Anders sighed. Certainly Justice hadn’t tried because he’d considered that point. He hadn’t tried because that was not the sort of thing he thought about. So many years now of sharing a body and still that bloody spirit neglected things that his mortal host couldn’t help but need. It’s not as if Anders was trying to be a nuisance with his hunger and thirst and tiredness…. In fact, if he could abolish those needs completely that would make life so much easier on everyone.

_Yes, me and my bloody addiction to food and water, right Justice? Such an inconvenience. Besides, starvation is such a great bloody time! Who wouldn’t love feeling like their flesh is eating itself alive? It’s like a party inside my skin!_

 

The elation of his freedom subsided quickly. Now fully exposed to the mountain wind, his teeth chattered violently. Slowly, with measured step after measured step, Anders climbed across the snowy field toward the trees. Movement was his only defense against the cold, but his exhaustion was bone deep. With every passing moment he dreamed of collapsing into the soft snow for a quick nap, but there was no question that would be a nap from which he would not wake. Time floated by without measure, his eyelids taking on the weight of lead.

As the landscape settled into a predictable procession of images, Anders’ mind wandered back to the cave. Rotting, bloated bodies, a dream about that bald elf who told him about the water, and then… _Selise._ Of course she was always there in his mind, coloring the background of his thoughts, no matter how mundane. But she had actually been there… in the cave and then…

Anders’ breath caught in his throat. She’d pulled him into a dream, said she couldn’t wake.

A new flood of cold spread down his body, a rush of adrenaline that quickened his steps. Something was _wrong._ Of course it was wrong. A fucking blood mage was marching her through the mountains like a marionette! But it had to have been more than that now.

_I can’t wake up._

His breath seemed to escape his chest, the air around him evading his lungs. He had to find her.

 

Justice rumbled to life just enough to be felt, but Anders’ vision did not cloud. Instead he felt his passenger lending him some strength, urging him forward. Justice had rarely intervened in situations not directly relevant to some larger, overarching cause, but he’d certainly seemed to have his own set of thoughts regarding Selise. Anders had felt it a few times now.

_Oh sure, suddenly you’ve found it in your heart to help me? Where were you all the countless other times I could have used your assistance? And not for Chantry explosions or, I don’t know, mangling and driving away the people I love…_

The thought echoed in his mind disdainfully, his skin prickling with the same irritation that had arisen just after he’d come to. But of course Justice didn’t have a heart. Justice was what he was, with his own motivations and ideas. Anders sighed, accepting the surge of energy that was propelling him faster along. For whatever reason, Justice was helping him, _urging_ him forward. The image of Selise stayed fast in his mind, bring his heartrate up to a dizzying intensity.

But even as he moved, something felt different. Thinking back over their time together, of all the weeks and months that he couldn’t find the boundaries of himself and the beginnings of Justice, he suddenly felt strangely removed from the spirit he’d once considered a friend. Justice’s cause wasn’t always as shared as he’d once claimed.

“I _am_ the cause of mages. There is nothing else left inside me,” were words he’d once said to Hawke. They felt true then. More importantly, he'd believed them then completely. Though he couldn't deny that he’d wondered before if he’d had felt the same if she hadn’t chosen Fenris. If Hawke, then the object of his infatuation, had asked him to give up his cause, or at least delay his crusade and to run away with her, would he have done so?

He would have considered it. But things after the Chantry were so muddied. He’d known then that he -- _they_  --  had changed his life irrevocably, that he’d be vilified far and wide for an action he was sure was completely necessary. He might as well embrace that change. Go all in.

Not that he wasn’t already all in.

At least he told himself he was, told everyone else that he was. Talking big was required, for everyone whop questioned him, but also for himself, to keep his own commitment firm and assuage that little piece of his mind that wondered if he wasn't actually just a common murderer.

So much struggling to accept the new order of the world as his fault, as what _he_ wanted, despite the fact that it was Justice who controlled the hands that built the bomb, it was Justice's added rage that magnified his own into something uncontrollable. 

Not that it mattered. No one else discerned which actions were taken by Justice, and which by himself. So much of the time not even he could, feeling more at some points that they were one, and sensing at others that there remained a division. He’d have to accept Justice’s crimes as his own, as they were in the sense that he gave Justice the body with which to commit his crimes. He'd shared the opinion,  _still_ shared the opinion, and always would, that the mages needed to be free. That revolutionary action needed to be taken. Would the pre-Justice Anders have taken such actions that killed so very many innocents? Or would he have found another way? He certainly wouldn't have attacked Hawke. When he'd taken on Justice, he'd never considered the possibility of Justice becoming Vengeance. 

The line between who he was in his heart, and who he'd become because of Justice’s usurpation of his mind and body was suddenly sparklingly clear. 

_It’s feeling awfully crowded in here at the moment._

Anders shook his head. These weren’t the first time he’d such thoughts, but it felt like the first time these thoughts felt entirely, wholly _true._ It didn’t feel like musings or speculation anymore, it felt like cold, hard facts. The clarity was bone chilling.

But what did it really matter? Nothing could be done about it anyway. What was done was done, the past was in the past. Surely Justice would act out again, his antics only demonizing Anders further to those it victimzied. It was only a matter of time. At least it would all benefit the Tranquil, who needed access to a spirit in order to be cured. That might make up for some of the havok that Justice had wrought upon Thedas. For whatever transgressions Justice had saddled Anders with, Anders needed him now. Freeing the Tranquil was his own cause, one that he’d known he’d someday champion the moment he’d taken Hawke into the Chantry to try to save Karl.

It was relief to know they’d share a goal again, instead of constantly fighting. When they both genuinely shared a goal they became so in tune that it was almost like Justice wasn’t there anymore. Things were always so much easier that way. He slept better, his thoughts were clearer, he felt healthier.

He never would have guessed that so much of the time, he and Justice would be so damned incompatible.

 

A crunch in the snow some yards ahead broke Anders out of his thoughts. He blinked again, his vision gone blurry from exhaustion, from the constant barrage of icy wind at his face. He looked ahead, feeling Justice coming alert again along with him.

A figure, stumbling wearily through the snow. Body and clothes blackened, except for a mess of pulpy flesh on the forearms, neck and face. Vaguely familiar, yet frighteningly transformed, the man was clearly injured, but not enough to keep him from walking. Anders stopped for a moment to watch, searching the figure for an identifying feature.

It took a moment as the man slowly came closer before Anders’ placed the familiar build and gait.

His steps resumed, stumbling in the shin-deep snow as he attempted to pick up speed. That man, Qaris, had been with the blood mages, with _Selise._ Anders cast his eyes into the surrounding trees, searching for any sign of the others, for his lover. But he saw only the same empty forest he’d been walking in since he’d regained control of his body.

Still, it was something. He could lead him back, take him to her…. Or what remained of her…

The thought was unacceptable. Even Justice railed against the idea, a new fury inflaming his chest and driving him forward, step after step, quickly closing the gap where the blistered man had now stopped, his black elven eyes taking in the thin form of an enraged mage.


End file.
